Love & Loss
by IrishRed5
Summary: After the loss of the one he loved most, the broken Dovahkiin turns to the Dark Brotherhood. Years later, he is contacted by a band called the Dawnguard. Expecting to simply slay every vampire he sees, he signs on. As fate would have it, he meets the very thing his damaged soul needs. In the form of an unexpected and very beautiful woman, with a deadly secret.
1. Prologue

**A/N: So, I recently played Dawnguard and I was greatly inspired by the story. For the sake of those who haven't had the opportunity to play it yet, I will spare you from any spoilers. This prologue is clear of any spoilers in my opinion. I took care to only reveal the part where the quest is initially received, as well as a lead in that is free of any names. Hope you enjoy.**

Prologue

Maximus knew this hunt was a stretching their limits too far, they had been out far too long. Feeding only sustained their bloodlust for so long. Normally he never would have allowed this, but weakness to pleasing his wife had won over. Together he and Aela made sure that despite their demanding commitments throughout Skyrim, that they would make one night a month for each other. A night dedicated to the ages old ritual, the hunt. The two werewolves ruled the night, tearing through the snow, feeling the icy wind blow through their thick fur. Aela loved it much more than Maximus did. She craved the hunt and lived for it. Maximus was more interested in straightforward battle, sneaking wasn't his thing. There wasn't anything subtle about his Greatsword and heavy ebony armor.

Maximus had seen the Silver Hand leader and Aela vanish into a sheet of snow that whipped through the air. The blizzard was growing stronger by the minute. He growled as he cast the Silver Hand crony into the nearest pine tree, satisfied when he heard the snap of what was surely the woman's spine.

His eyes glowed as he searched through the blistering wind, when finally he heard the growling and grunting of battle between werewolf and warrior. Maximus ran on all fours, claws providing traction in the snow. They were running out of time and their armor and weapons were far out of range. Maximus growled, cursing in his head. Tearing around the corner of ice and rock, he only caught a glimpse of Aela, completely nude, fighting for her life against a heavily bleeding but better equipped. Maximus felt his wolf legs buckle and his face connect with the ground. He felt the full force of the cold now, returning to his human form as well. Even his cold resistant Nord skin couldn't keep this out. He pulled himself to his feet, he could see Aela facing her death at the hands of a silver sword, coming downward towards her chest cavity. Maximus let out a powerful shout of unrelenting force.

"FUS-RO-DAH!"

He watched as the man flew limply through the air, completely caught of guard. The Silver Hand leader's skull connecting with the rock of the mountain foot, killing him instantly. He could see Aela slide across the snow from the corner of his eye, the force hitting her indirectly. Maximus looked down to see a bloody slide mark that lead to Aela's still form. He rushed to her side, kneeling and rolling her over into the crook of his bulging arms, "Aela, my love!"

Much to his surprise she smiled at him, "I owe you a mead, Max."

Maximus laughed, "Nah, it's my job to cover your arse." Aela smiled, her icy grey eyes sparkling. A closer look made him realize they were tears forming at the brim of her eyes. It made them especially beautiful. He felt himself overwhelmed with the weight of the look she gave him. It was the few moments like these throughout their marriage that Aela truly showed her love for him.

Maximus felt a hand on his as it rested on her bleeding abdomen.

"We need to get out of here," Maximus half pleaded to her and the universe itself, "You're fine! You've been hurt worse you sissy," he jabbed at her, attempting to boost her resolve.

She laughed, though it caused her pain. The look she gave him told that she knew she was not fine, nor was she leaving this place.

"No better place to die, Max. Here near Falkreath, among the bones of the many heroes," she said peacefully, Maximus had never seen the driven Companion so at ease.

"I'm going to Hircine's hunting grounds, where I can hunt forever," Aela smiled up at him, "Don't follow me, Max. Skyrim needs her Dovahkiin. I know hunting isn't your paradise."

Max for the first time in nearly twenty years, let tears stream down his face, "Don't make me choose. Stay," his voice trembling, failing to remain firm.

Aela reached up and touched his face, the only warmth his bare body felt in the blizzard, "I won't. I've lived my life, and now I can go with Skjor and my other brothers and sisters. You have much yet to do. Don't make me a burden, Max," she commanded making firm eye contact. Max nodded, "I love you," was all he could say.

Aela smiled, her face as beautiful as he'd ever seen it, "I love you too. Goodbye, my love." Aela's eyes slowly drew closed as Max kissed her one last time. He expected her eyes to open again after he pulled out of the kiss, like she had every other time. This time they did not.

In the five years that followed, Max fell into a dark state, the generous, benevolent, and good-humored man he once was had withered away. This was not the first time he had suffered loss, but it was the most painful. He joined up with the Dark Brotherhood, putting his talents up for the highest bidder to keep himself busy. He could not stand to remain the Harbinger without his wife at his side. The Companions were Aela's life and he felt it wasn't right to lead without her. He decided to leave the Companions to Farkas and Vilkas.

In his time as an assassin, Max embraced the coldness of the Night Mother's embrace. He even assassinated Titus Mede II, Emperor of Tamriel. At the contract's conclusion, he fulfilled the dead Emperor's request by killing the man who ordered his slaying.

Not even cold-blooded murder or the voice of legendary spirit that spoke only to him could fill the empty space within Max's chest. He had no purpose anymore, not even his Dragonborn blood could fix that. Maximus couldn't bring himself to return to Whiterun, one of his many homes, but the one chosen by Aela as their primary residence.

Finally, on the seven year anniversary of Aela's death, and after much scolding from his friend, Mjoll the Lioness, Max returned to Whiterun. He slumped up to the Bannered Mare and ordered the strongest drink the establishment could muster. Hulda, the barmaid, gave him a concerned smile, "You know, I've been hearing talk of the Dawnguard looking for new recruits."

Max scowled his thick beard accentuating his distaste. "Not interested," he grumbled.

He had no quarrel with Hulda, he just wished the woman would mind her own damned business.

Hulda only shrugged and continued to wipe down the bar.

Max finally made his way out of the Bannered Mare, it was nearly morning and he couldn't see straight. This was the only state in which he could force himself to return to Breezehome.

As he stumbled through the stony streets, an Orc approached him. Max had never seen his particular armor set before, but found himself more interested in staring at the Orc's outward jutting jaw and jagged teeth. They were so hideous.

"Hey, Nord, you looking for work?" the orc's rumbling voice called out to him.

Maximus frowned, "No! Can't a man be left to his misery?"

The Orc's face contorted, Max took it as the Orc equivalent of a frown, "Sir, it's not my business what's got you in such a state, but I bet killing a few vampires would help keep your mind off it."

Max nodded, staring at the spinning ground for a moment, feeling as if he were about to hurl.

"Aye, where do I sign up? I hate the blasted creatures," he blurted without thinking.

The Orc smiled, "That's the spirit. Report to my boss, Isran at Fort Dawnguard. Take the cave near Stendarr's beacon."

Max saluted drunkenly. The Orc reached out and stuffed a paper into Max's belt, "My name's Durak. Lookin' forward to seeing you there."

Max saw this as an opportunity to clear Aela from his mind. And it would be, though not in the way he had expected. In fact, it, or should he say, she, fell right before him in the heart of Dimhollow Cave.

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**A/N: I know Aela boderlined on being a little too sappy, but given the moment, I figured a little more emotion was necessary. Hope you enjoyed! Next chapter WILL contain spoilers however. You were warned. As alway, R&R.**

**TS**


	2. A Step in the Right Direction

The last thing Max remembered from the night before was stumbling into Breezehome's alchemy lab, hoping to find something to cure him of his nausea. When he opened his eyes at high noon he found himself curled up next to the fire pit in the center of the first floor room. Max noticed his head rested on a sack of vegetables and that a thick fur blanket was pulled over him neatly. He looked up to see Lydia coming down the stairs behind him, the years had not been kind to her. Wrinkles lined her face as her mouth fell in a grim line, "It has been far too long, my Thane."

Max's facial expression remained blank, he hadn't planned on saying anything, but Lydia filled the silence for him.

"I understand why. I just would expect someone like you to be able to move after some time. She may not be in Sovngarde, but she's watching over you, like any of our ancestors and loved ones," Lydia's voice showed great understanding. After all, she had lived in the same house as them for the entirety of their marriage. She knew them best, second only to the members of the Companions.

"I haven't changed anything, I only removed the cobwebs and cleaned as needed. I won't change it unless you wish me to," Lydia said softly.

Max frowned in thought. The expression had become his only show of emotion since Aela's death. He didn't even smile when he was drunk.

"I can't bring myself to go in there," he confessed with a sigh.

Lydia nodded. Her facial expression changed to one of a captain addressing his charges. She opened her fist, revealing a crumpled piece of paper, "You've far too much talent to sit on your sorry arse and mope! Aela wouldn't want you to be like this! She'd want you to do her honor by killing Silver Hand members or clearing out a bandit cove!" She threw the crumpled paper his face.

Max picked it up and gingerly pulled it apart. It was a map showing the southwest region of Skyrim. He recognized the Stendarr's Beacon marked near the cave in which he was supposed to take to get to Dawnguard Castle. He glanced up at Lydia and smirked, "I suppose it's worth a shot." She gave him a fierce look, one that a Nord warrior gives to another. "Damn right it is. Make Skyrim proud."

Max slowly moved into a cross-legged sitting position. He squinted and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think through a hungover headache. Max simply sat there for a few minutes, trying to coax himself from his warm place on the floor.

Max trudged towards Whiterun's stable, dressed in his favorite outfit, heavy ebony armor. Much to his amusement, the stable owner gave him a nervous nod as he handed the reins of Max's undead horse, Shadowmere over. Max patted his loyal horse fondly, admiring his glowing red eyes.

Max stepped onto the mounting block, thankful that he didn't have to ground mount with all of his armor on. He tossed the stable hand a few septims and rode from the paddock to the dirt road. He stroked Shadowmere's pitch-black mane, "To Fort Dawnguard it is." The horse nickered and began to gain speed as Max's heels tightened into Shadowmere's side, heading off towards the scenic mountains that lay southwest of them.

The first few hours had been spent simply admiring the landscape, though it had been difficult for him to keep Aela off his mind. These mountains had been their hunting grounds for nearly ten years. In fact, their honeymoon had been spent terrorizing the bandit camps along this road. It had been the best times of his life, doing what they both loved. Max respected his werewolf gift in the way that it was there when it was needed, but he preferred not to use it unless it was necessary. He feared spending too much time as an animal would make him such. Aela on the other hand, loved to hunt as the wolf, the ultimate hunter of Skyrim. Despite their difference in opinion the two never argued over the topic, instead respecting each other's interpretation.

Max had always regretted spending so much time away in the last few months before Aela's death. Even after the defeat of Alduin and ending of the civil war, Skyrim was needy.

Max knew she didn't hold it against him, but he reprimanded himself for not being so quick to accept so many quests. Aela too was quite busy with the Companions, for all intents and purposes ran the guild. Max had actually passed the Harbinger title to her. Though she would never admit it, Aela deserved the honor more than he. Max still remembered the look in her eyes when he called the Companions into the hall and announced that Aela, not he, was the true Harbinger. By the look in her eyes, Max could see the way he felt after defeating Alduin. Aela's reaction wasn't overly ecstatic like most, but one of genuine respect.

"I'm so proud of you, Max. I'm sure your ancestors are dancing somewhere," she joked. That moment had meant more than any others to him. For as much as people would say 'thank you' and toss septims his way, they never understood his struggle the way Aela did.

Max could see the towering Stendarr's Beacon jutting from the side of the mountain. He quickened the pace, his arse and inner thigh growing tired of the saddle. Cresting the plateau he could see two Vigilants, a man and woman, clad in their usual robes approach him. Max guessed that they needed his help with something. He climbed down, and darted his eyes around the area. There didn't appear to be any immediate danger. Max's eyes narrowed as the Vigilants grew closer. His gut told him something wasn't right about them.

The Vigilants called out to him, "Help!"

Max inspected them, something about them was off. His suspicions were confirmed when one of the 'Vigilants' leapt at him with a disturbing hiss. Vampires.

Max quickly moved to one side, dodging the attack. A loud snap of the buttons on Max's back released his greatsword into his grip. He lunged forward, cutting down the knees of the second attacker and then slashing his artery at his neck. Turning round he could see the other vampire coming around for another assault. Her left hand flashed red as she tried to drain the life from Max. Charging forward, Max hacked her once, twice, three times, and she ceased to be. Collecting his breath, Max scanned the area once more. Satisfied he was alone, Max rested his greatsword on his shoulder since it was a real pain to strap it on his back since his armor limited his range of motion.

Max lead Shadow mere to the mouth of the cave and let him go, confident the horse could handle himself. He headed into the cave and began towards Fort Dawnguard.

Cresting the steps, a large, fortified wooden door greeted him. He found it was unlocked and simply pushed it open. A vaguely familiar orc greeted him, though his name escaped Max's memory. Max greeted him with a nod.

A nord with fair hair, clad in the similar armor to orc looked at Maximus and then back to the orc, "Who's this Durak? One of your recruits?"

Max scowled slightly at being referred as though he were a squire.

"I was recruited, yes. But I am not new blood," Max said bitterly.

The Nord must have not expected Max to pipe up for he simply stared at Maximus, sizing him up. Max was twice this man's size and it was obvious by the smaller Nord's silence.

Durak ignored the spat, "Isran will be wanting a word with you, Maximus."

The Nord's dark blue eyes widened in recognition of the name of the only Dragonborn in Skyrim. He quickly volunteered to show Maximus to their leader. He introduced himself as Agmaer. Max could see this fort was quite undermanned, perhaps explaining why he discovered vampires so close to the compound.

The leader, Isran, was a tall, fierce looking Redguard. His steel colored eyes contrasting his skin, he had a long dark beard that only added to his intimidating demeanor. Maximus could tell this man was well proven in the field of battle. Isran was currently in a heated argument with a tall, bald man dressed in faded robes. Max could hear something about a 'recent' attack. And how their numbers were 'severely hit'.

Once the argument appeared over, Max approached the Redguard, "Where do I start?" he asked simply.

Isran smirked in respect, "Right to business, my kind of recruit."

Max nodded impatiently.

"You're a seasoned warrior so I will not waste your talents on clearing out clusters of thralls and masters," Isran thought for a moment, running his hands through his beard.

"The vampires we seek are ones of great power. They seem to be interested in Dimhollow Crypt. You are to go there and discover whatever it is they are after."

Maximus nodded noticing the other man from the argument approaching.

"I will meet you at the crypt. My name is Vigilant Tolan," the older, bald man said.

Maximus bowed his head in greeting, but said nothing. He noticed Isran's glare at the Vigilant as Tolan exited the keep. There certainly was bad blood between the two, and Max wanted no part in it.

"I'll leave first thing in the morning," Max said, "I should arrive around the same time as he," he said, referring to Tolan.

Isran spoke without even a blink, "Yes, you should."

Max awoke in the comfort of the one of the fort's fur lined beds. He rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up. It must have rained the previous night, for a puddle gathered on the stone floor before him. Max could see his reflection quite well. He hadn't looked at himself in quite some time, finding his appearance quite startling. His handsome features covered by an uncharacteristically thick, unkempt beard. Max's good looks had caught the eye of nearly every woman in Skyrim, his handsome Nord features and dark brown eyes were quite attractive. His dark hair and beard were kept well trimmed and gave him a rugged, battle-hardened appeal that caught the respect of the men and the fancy of ladies.

Max stared himself in shame. He was once a charismatic, well-respected man. Though his defeat of Alduin remained the talk of Skyrim, Max had yet to add to his saga. Sure, the assassination of the Emperor had been credited to the Dark Brotherhood, but Max had been very careful not to share his name or face with them. He had always kept his mask, Rahgot, over his face when he worked. He was only referred to as, 'The Listener' among the Brotherhood.

Max pulled out a knife and began to clean his appearance up, cutting his hair and beard to their old length. Max armored up and slid Rahgot over his face. He had a good feeling about today for some reason and his gut had yet to fail him.

After a day's ride, Max had stopped in Dawnstar. He visited his old friends in the Kahjiit Caravan. Their leader, Ahkari, always came across many interesting items and loved to trade them with Max. He was always welcome to stay with any of the Kahjiit caravans. Of any of the races among Skyrim, Max respected the Kahjiit the most. They were always friendly and eager to tell stories of their travels or of their homeland, Elsweyr.

The cats had a knack for cooking as well. Maximus had a taste for spicy food and the Kahjiit were the best he had come across in delivering delicious meals with a kick. Maximus smirked to himself, The Gourmet's 'disappearance' had left Skyrim searching for the next big obsession. He hoped the Kahjiit's chili would become popular for their sake. The race could use a good rap for once.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, friend," Kharjo greeted him. Max smiled and shook the cat's furry hand. Max had joked at envying the Kahjiit's soft fur, wishing he had it on the colder adventures. The cats had liked that one, taking it as a compliment.

After a few hours resting by the warm fire and filling his belly with Kahjiit chili, Max decided it was time to head towards Dimhollow. He thanked the Kahjiit and wished them well in their travels. He left them with a few salvaged weapons and trinkets to sell and went on his way.

* * *

**A/N: I felt like I need to break up Dimhollow Crypt and the parts leading up to it. Now the fun part begins. R&R!**


	3. Of Course It's Not That Simple

**A/N: Hello everyone. Now, we get into the story line. While for those of you that have played Dawnguard will find most of the dialogue from the game itself, I needed to do that to sort of set the stage and develop the characters. While later you'll find I do that less. You wanted longer, so here you go. Enjoy.**

* * *

Maximus came upon the snow-covered entrance to Dimhollow Crypt. He saw Tolan's roan ground tied nearby and led Shadowmere there as well. Max observed the cave entrance, "I suppose they wouldn't be vampires if they didn't like dark, frightful places such as this," he said to Shadowmere.

Max entered the cave with his sword drawn, a precaution he often took in uncertain situations such as this. Maximus had explored many crypts, caves, and ruins in his time, and this particular crypt didn't appear any different.

Max entered the cave, the entrance was scattered with signs of battle and corpses. There were four vampires and two ash piles in total spread throughout the bloodstained room. Max discovered Vigilant Tolan's corpse leaning against the ancient stone walls. He hadn't gone down without a fight, the ideal Nord death. Max respectfully closed the Vigilant's eyes and continued onward.

Fighting through traps, vampires and draugr, Max felt wonderful getting back into the type of combat he loved best: close quarters, with multiple enemies. Maximus had hated the sneaky, cloak and dagger style of the Brotherhood. There was so much control, and innocents were no fun. They never fought back. He had to admit though, the style of the Brotherhood had taught him a lot. He made a habit of gathering more information on his targets and the terrain, checking the area out before charging in headlong, and also the ability to do away with someone quietly. All and all, it had made him a well-rounded warrior.

After at least an hour of good ol' hacking and slashing, Max came into a large open part of the cavern. The center of the room held a massive stone monolith of some sort. It sat in the center of what looked like a ritual epicenter that was surrounded by water on all sides. The only entrance was a solitary bridge. It was nearly as ancient as the caverns themselves, but remarkably intact. Light from above shone down in a heavenly fashion. A sense of irony struck Max as he looked at it. He presumed this beautiful construct contained whatever the vampires were after, and light after all was a vampire's worst enemy. Approaching the bridge, Max scanned the area thoroughly. The last thing he wanted was to walk into a trap.

Getting closer, Max could see a ring pattern surrounding the monolith: the rings grew smaller the closer they got to the monolith. At the center, the monolith rested upon a pentagon. Five lines then shot out from each of the points. When line and circle met, there was a sizeable hole; in some, a brazier with glowing purple ember could be found. Max inspected the braziers carefully, he tried to move the braziers, surmising that there must be a pattern involved, but they would not budge.

Max approached the central point and stood on the pentagon, blinking up into the light as it poured down on the monolith. Something was clearly important about this spot. A button lay atop the monolith; it was odd looking: a slight red glow emitted from it, strikingly similar to that of blood. Max reached out his hand cautiously and pressed the button. A spike shot out from the button and pierced his hand, the pain bringing him to his knees. Luckily, his armor prevented the spike from impaling his hand. Looking at the wound, Max removed the broken ebony gauntlet and ripped a spare leather strip from it. He wrapped it the wound tightly. Max remained calm about the injury. After all, he had definitely been through worse.

What Max had not immediately noticed was a purple glow began to come from the circular ruts, each leading to a brazier. Max smirked, now he knew what to do. He cautiously waved a hand at the purple glow, but realized it did him no harm. After a few minutes of sliding braziers around so that a purple fire glowed from each, the pentagon separated. The pool of purple matter, the button, and the monolith rose. It grew much larger as it elevated from the glow. The glow subsided, leaving Max staring in wonder. Some very powerful magic was at work here. Max reached out to touch the monolith for a reason he was not entirely sure. As he was doing so, half of the monolith began to slide out.

As the door slid down, a sleeping or dead, young woman lay within. Her arms were crossed, and a very strange looking staff was strapped onto her back. Her clothes looked as though she were from another time, and her pale skin made her seem dead. This theory was soon laid to rest when the woman bobbled and began to fall forward. Max jumped forward out of reflex and caught her, helping her to her feet. As she groaned, he noticed her skin was very cold, perhaps from being trapped in the strange monolith in a freezing cave. She acted as though she had just woken from a nap. As she came to her feet, Max noticed she was also very beautiful; she had dark brown hair held back by four small braids.

The mysterious woman turned to Max and groaned again, "Where is-" she mumbled in a sleepy voice. She changed her question, "Who sent you?" She crossed her arms expectantly, her odd colored eyes almost glowing as they inspected Maximus from head to toe.

Max was unsure how to respond. He wasn't sure what side this woman was on, and so he chose a neutral response, "Who were you expecting," Max inquired.

"I was expecting… Someone like me, at least," she confessed.

Putting the pieces together quickly, Max was surprised at how open she was, "You're a…"

"Vampire, yes," she answered.

Max thought of killing her, but her openness made her seem as no threat at all. He was more curious than afraid. No vampire has ever dared to speak to him before, nor has anyone ever been so honest.

"Why were you locked away like that," Max asked curiously.

"That's complicated… If you want to know the whole story, help me get to my home," she said. Max suspected she didn't trust him, but part of her wanted to.

Max decided he would be doing the Dawnguard a bigger favor if he found this 'home' for them, at the very least. He might also discover whatever this 'whole story' was, though his intrigue in this vampire was mainly why. Max was not particularly good at following orders. He was of a curious sort.

"My family used to live on an island near Solitude. I would assume they still do," the woman said, "By the way, my name is Serana, nice to meet you."

Max bowed his head slightly, "And you as well. I am Maximus."

Serana's delicate, full lips curved up slightly, "A very Nordic name."

Max felt a genuine smile trickle across his face, "Yes," he chuckled lightly.

"Well, any idea how we get out of here?"

Serana shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine."

Max nodded, "Follow me, then. Can you fight?"

Serana smirked, "Of course."

Serana hadn't lied. She was quite the ranged combatant, wielding magic, Max had never seen before. After killing a few draugr and even a gargoyle, Max discovered a gate before them; it was locked however. He spotted a lever above them and headed up the stairs to pull it.

"How long have you been here?" he asked.

Serana looked up towards him, "Good question. I can't really say. It feels like a long time." She paused, "Who is Skyrim's High King?"

Max chuckled, "That's actually a matter for debate."

"Oh, wonderful," she said sarcastically, "A war of succession. Good to see Skyrim didn't get boring while I was gone. Who are the contenders?"

"The Empire supports Elisif, but there are many in Skyrim loyal to Ulfric of Windhelm."

Max flipped the level and made his way down to Serana. She looked confused, "Empire? What Empire?"

"The Imperial Empire… From Cyrodiil," Max answered, rather surprised.

"Cyrodiil has a seat on the Empire? I must've been gone longer than we planned. I need to get home to figure everything out," Serana said wearily.

Max nodded and continued forward, his ebony great sword in hand. From behind him he could hear Serana grunt in pain, two draugr were attacking her.

Max sprinted back and in one swift move, shattered the draugr to pieces. He noticed when he turned back that Serana's wounds had healed.

Max looked at his own wounded hand, the leather strip was soaked with blood. _I wish I could do that. _Max thought to himself.

Max pulled vial from his belt and poured a little healing potion on it. That _should_ do the trick. He glanced at Serana nervously, but she didn't appear to notice his wounds.

They entered a strangely built room, it was steep and had stairs on all sides, leading into a central fire, where two charred corpses lay. It must have been something of an arena or seat of council.

"Something isn't right here," Serana said, "We should be careful."

Max charged down into the room. He spotted a few skeletons and cut them down with ease. He let out his powerful Fire Breath shout and crumbled the rest. He spun around on instinct, and parried the blade of a draugr deathlord. It's tall horned helm unmistakable. Max parried repeatedly waiting for his opening, and finally, it came. Max slashed the undead's legs and then brought down his heavy blade on it's skull.

Serana came down the stairs, two skeletons followed her, a bluish aura surrounding them. Max lifted his blade ready to do away with them, when Serana told him to stop.

"They're mine, I reanimated them," she explained.

Max squinted slightly, "I don't know what that means, other than I shouldn't kill them."

Serana snorted slightly in laughter, "Yes, I suppose that's good enough," she switched gears, "You're pretty good at this. Should I know your name?"

Max cocked his head to one side slightly, "Well, you probably should know that those legends about dragons are true, and that they now roam Skyrim."

Serana laughed, "You're kidding, right?" When she saw that Max's face remained serious she stopped, "You are serious. So where do you come in?"

"I'm the Dovahkiin," Max said simply, when he saw that Serana didn't make the connection he rephrased, "The Dragonborn."

Serana's eyes widened, "Really? Why do you say 'the' Dragonborn' aren't there more?"

Max shook his head, "No, unfortunately. Just me."

"So that's what that shouting was," Serana said, tactfully changing the subject.

Max nodded, he spotted the door chain and pulled it down. The door slid out of the way and revealed a snowy path which they followed out into the bitter Skyrim landscape.

"Ah! It's so good to breathe again," Serana exclaimed as she followed Max to the horses.

Max hopped onto Shadowmere and Serana took Tolan's horse. Max nodded towards the path signaling for Serana to lead the way.

After three hours on horseback, Serana rode towards the sea. She looked into the distance and then down to a small dock and boat. Max watched as a snow fox padded quietly through the icy landscape, but he repressed the emotion that came with his late wife's memory better than he ever had before.

"That's it there," she said and pointed to a shadow. The shadow appeared to contain a large structure that loomed in the fog towards the north.

"There's the boat. Let's go."

She and Max dismounted and boarded the boat. As they floated along the coast, a large castle began to immerge through the mist.

Max watched as it continued to expand through the mist the closer they got. It was quite impressive. As the boat docked Serana's expression was tense, "So… This is it. Home sweet… castle."

Max smirked at the comment.

"You didn't tell me it was so huge," Max mused.

"I didn't want you to think I was one of those, you know… Women that sits in their castle all day. Coming from a place like this… It really isn't me. I hope you can believe that," Serana said, her voice slightly concerned.

Max said nothing for a moment. He was surprised that she cared what he thought about her.

"Upon meeting you I wouldn't come to the conclusion that you lived in a massive castle on a secret island, no," Max joked in attempt to ease her tension. It worked as Serana had a good laugh at it.

Max inwardly questioned himself. Since when was he his old joking self? He reminded himself to focus on the task at hand. As he followed Serana up the stone bridge, she turned to him and said, "Hey… Before we get in there…"

Max raised an eyebrow, "What is it?"

"I just wanted to say thank you for getting me this far," Serana said. "I think I'm going to go my own way for awhile. I think…," she trailed off. "Most of your friends would want to kill everything in there, but I'm hoping you can show more restraint than that," she said. "Just let me do the talking, and try not to draw any attention on yourself." Max only nodded, deciding that now wasn't the time to ask questions. He eyed the gargoyles cautiously, having only hours ago been attacked by those savage stone creatures.

The watchman opened the gate without saying a word. The first man inside however, noticed Max instantly. "How dare you trespass here," he hissed, "Wait… Serana? Is that truly, you? I cannot believe my eyes!" He ran onto the balcony before him, "My Lord! Everyone! Serana has returned!"

"I guess I'm expected," Serana deadpanned. She walked towards the middle railing of the grand staircase that parted on two sides. Three long tables in a rectangular 'U' shape faced Serana. The vampires seated at the tables all looked up at her in astonishment.

Max finally got a good look at the strange staff looking object on her back. He recognized the intricate designs instantly. It was an Elder Scroll. Maybe this was what the vampires sought.

A man stood in the center of the long tables, his arms were outstretched dramatically, "My long lost daughter returns at last," his voice as dramatic as his pose. Max could feel his megalomaniac warning pinging in his head. Something about the man's tone sounded like he was more interested in pleasing his audience than excited to see his daughter. This man truly belonged in a castle… or a museum. "I trust you have my Elder Scroll," he asked. Max smirked _Ah, now we get to the real reason he's excited, _he thought.

Serana didn't miss a beat either, "After all these years, that's the first thing you ask me," she sighed, "Yes, I have the Scroll."

Serana's father glanced quickly around to his vampiric audience, who were happily munching away at human corpses, "Of course I'm delighted to see my only daughter, must I express that aloud," he asked, trying to win back the others. Max rolled his eyes. This guy was head case.

Serana's father cupped his chin and looked upward, "Ah, if only your traitor mother were here. I would let her watch this reunion before putting her head on a spike." Max could see Serana was affected by this statement.

The lavishly dressed lord turned to Maximus, "Now tell me, who is this stranger you've brought into our hall?"

Serana stepped forward, her voice had a slight edge of defensiveness, "This is my savior, the one who freed me," she let the last words hang in an attempt to shame her father.

The lord stepped closer, his voice sounding less scripted and instead more conversational. Something in the man's glowing eyes made Maximus' feel on guard. "I have you to thank for my daughter's safe return," the lord said evenly, "Tell, me who are you?"

"I am Maximus. Who are you?"

The Lord's voice returned to his cheesy act, "I," he paused dramatically, "Am Lord Harkon, lord of this court. By now my daughter will have told you what we are," he said with a sideways glance at Serana.

Maximus contained his irritation at this man's lack of directness. _Gee, you don't think the corpses on the table gave it off?_

"You're vampires," Max said, hiding his impatience.

"Not just vampires," Harkon corrected, "We're among the oldest and most powerful vampires in Skyrim. For centuries," he began to pace, and tell about how they lived here for centuries carelessly, until his wife betrayed him. However, Maximus mostly tuned him out until he finished.

Max decided to cut to the chase, "What happens now?"

"You have done me a great service, and now you deserve to be rewarded. There is but one gift I can give you that is equal in value to the return of my daughter and Elder Scroll. I offer you my blood," he said, letting it sink in, "Take it and you will walk as a lion among sheep, men will tremble at your approach and you will never know death."

Max's face tensed in consideration, men trembling at his approach sounded pretty good. He thought of his werewolf blood, and wondered if he could even become a vampire this way. He glanced at Serana, who looked as though she disproved of her father's offer.

"I'm a werewolf. Does that affect your gift?"

"Yes, I can smell it on you," he hissed, "The power of my blood will purge that filth from you and make you whole again."

Maximus was hurt at this statement, not because Harkon had insulted him, but because he had considered giving up what Aela had given him herself. Max looked down at the ring on his finger, and began to twist it thoughtfully. Serana appeared to notice this and frowned, she had not known he was a werewolf.

While Maximus wanted to move on, he did not believe this was the way. He snuck a glance at Serana. He had enjoyed her company greatly. Since meeting her, he had begun to feel alive again, but she was to go her own path.

Maximus met Harkon's gaze, "And if I want to remain a werewolf?"

"I will banish you from this castle. I will spare your life this once, but you will be prey after that," Harkon stated. He looked at his audience, "Perhaps you still need convincing," he said, voice filled with bravado, "Behold!"

Blood began to seep from every orifice as Harkon convulsed. Blood spattered everywhere as he assumed a new form. He became a horrific grey skinned demon with sharp claws. It's skeletal wings flapped rapidly. It wore a strange spiked crown that appeared to be made of gold. A long loin cloth hung from it's waist, adorned in ornate decoration.

"This is what I offer you," the demonic form said proudly.

"Now make your choice," Harkon's demon body threatened.

Maximus wouldn't back down however, "I don't want to become a vampire," he said, "I refuse your gift."

"So be it," Harkon said slowly, "You are prey like all mortals."

Harkon raised his voice, " I banish you!"

Maximus turned and looked at Serana one last time, she appeared torn.

Max nodded to her, and then began towards the exit of Castle Vrolikhar without looking back.

* * *

**A/N:**** Stay tuned for next time and thanks for reading.**

**TS**


	4. With Friends Like These

**A/N:**** Sorry for the long hiatus. Unfortunately, college and softball take priority. I have been working on this chapter on and off for awhile now. I was really stuck until recently and I didn't want to post some half-assed attempt for time's sake. I put in some solid time on this one. Some of you have mentioned the pace of my story, so I went back and read over my previous chapters for insight on what you were talking about. I do see what you are talking about, and I did my best to smooth transitions and spend a little more time on details. Anyways, I'll stop blabbering and let you read! Enjoy!**

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Upon his return to Fort Dawnguard, Maximus could see an ensuing skirmish between the vampire hunters and their sworn enemies. Max hopped from his horse and snapped free his ebony greatsword. He surged forward to the nearest vampire. It was locked in battle with the Nord Vori.

Max could hear the vampire's hiss, which he cut short with a quick thrust into its back. The vampire crumpled to the ground. As Max withdrew his blade he noticed a black fluid now coated it. He nodded towards Vori and continued forward, encouraging her to follow. He continued up the path, never pausing from his pursuit of the vampires. Max cut down two more vampire thralls, leaving piles of ash and undead gore. Another thrall got a jump on Max, tearing just under the weak point of his left shoulder pauldron, causing him to drop his sword. He grunted as he brought his right fist into the thrall's face. He grimaced slightly as he brought his left arm around the male thrall's long hair, feeling the tearing pain in both his shoulder and hand. Maximus pressed his right hand against the back of the thrall's skull and pushed forward whilst pulling back with his left. A sickening pop filled the air and the thrall's struggling ceased. Max let out a deep breath as he dropped the lifeless body.

Maximus watched as Isran viciously cut down the master vampire with a bellowing battle cry. The man's icy eyes growing all the more cold as he hacked away. Max turned his good shoulder towards the nearest vampire and let out a whirlwind sprint shout as he blazed forward and sent it hurtling from the carved out walkway. Max knew quite well that a fall at such velocity would kill the vampire instantly.

Maximus walked slowly towards his sword and gingerly propped it upon his shoulder, unable to sheath it in his current state. He proceeded to check on the survivors of the onslaught. Fortunately, it appeared that no one was killed. There were a few wounds that could be remedied with salve and bandages.

Isran approached Max, waiting for an explanation for Dimhollow Cave. He was not pleased in the least. After a heated argument, Isran dismissed him, promptly ordering Maximus to track down two estranged members of the order. When Max complained, making his impatience known, Isran had said, "You are better at making friends than I. If we are to have any chance against the bloodsuckers, we need Gunmar and Sorine." The Dragonborn had reluctantly obliged.

For his first stop Max decided on Riften, a town he rarely got around to visiting. Being such an out of the way place in the corner of Nord country, Max rarely found himself in the area. The ride had been a good choice, as he had run into a hunter. After bartering with the odd deerskin clad man, he had learned the location of his first contact, Gunmar. He decided to follow his lucky gut and seek the help of a friend who knew a thing or two about the Dwemer, and if he was lucky, Sorine Jurard.

Maximus entered the Bee and Barb, a rush of warmth and the sweet scent of the hearth and mead greeted him.

"Ah, my dearest friend!" a thickly accented female voice exclaimed.

Max approached the table in the corner. tThere sat Mjoll the Lioness, and her 'friend'Aerin. The small man glared at Maximus as he approached. Mjoll appeared oblivious to this or simply chose to ignore it, he could not tell.

"Hello Lioness," Max said with a warm smile, "Been a long while since I've been in the Rift."

Mjoll studied Max for a minute, "You look much better than last I saw you," she glanced down at his wrapped arm. "Well, mentally anyway," she prodded jokingly.

Max smirked, "Is it the beard or the bloodstains?"

Mjoll chuckled, "No, you have that look about you."

"And what is that exactly," he inquired, slightly sarcastic.

Mjoll smirked, "Purpose."

Max gave her a nod of understanding and glanced around quickly, seeing if anyone was within earshot as they sat down. He let a few people move from the bar before he spoke, "I've been working with the Dawnguard."

"Never heard of such a faction," Mjoll said, her voice quieting to match her friend's volume.

"They're a secretive alliance of vampire hunters," Max said, his expression showed he realized how ridiculous it sounded.

Mjoll smirked, obviously hiding a laugh behind her tankard of mead, "If it were coming from anyone else, I'd accuse them of abusing skooma."

Surprisingly, Aerin cast in his septims worth, "I have been hearing rumors of the Dawnguard recruiting from the guards around here. There have also been whispers of an increase of disappearances, which is disconcerting considering you took out that dragon."

Max was genuinely surprised Aerin was participating. The Imperial usually spent the majority of the time poking fun at the Dragonborn and staring him down. Aerin's jealousy was childlike in Max's opinion. There wasn't anything romantic intended in his retrieval of Grimsever, it was simply doing an old friend a kindness.

"We lose a few of the poor to the skooma dens every so often and no one really gives a troll's arse, but when nobles go missing, that's news," Mjoll added cynically.

Max played with his beard a bit, "The vampires are up to something, I'm not entirely sure what, but I intend to find out. These aren't like the vampire masters and thralls we're accustomed to. These are powerful vampires, demons even."

Mjoll nodded warily, "Thanks for the warning, but a courier would have been just fine. What is it you need, friend?"

Max's gold-brown wolf's eyes flashed to her hazel, "I've been sent to recruit some estranged members, one of which is an expert on the Dwemer."

Mjoll nodded knowingly, urging Max to go on.

"Her name is Sorine Jurard, a Breton."

"Yes, I've ran into her a few times," Mjoll affirmed. "I've bartered with her. She likes Dwemer Gyros and will pay good money for them. She's quite the mechanical genius and very paranoid. Having her on your side would be worthwhile."

"Where would I find her?" Max inquired.

"Hard to say. She's quite solitary. Last I heard, she was camping out in The Reach somewhere. I would ask around," Mjoll recommended.

Max nodded appreciatively, "For your trouble, friend," he reached into a strange bag he strapped around his side. From within, he pulled out a pair of enchanted Dwarven gauntlets, the bronze-gold shimmer unmistakable.

Max knew of Mjoll's fascination with Dwemer artifacts, as well as armor. He knew it was a bullseye when he saw her expression.

Max had a tendency to go for tough women, and Mjoll was no exception. What Aerin didn't know was the two had a past that made any chance of a romance unlikely. This topic was a touchy one that neither he nor Mjoll liked to discuss.

Max shifted uncomfortably as he realized he and Mjoll had been staring at each other just a bit too long. He could feel Aerin's pathetic glare on the side of his head. Ignoring the Imperial's distaste, Max nodded graciously to Mjoll and left the tavern. His talks with Mjoll were never as pleasant with Aerin hovering around.

He had a long ride ahead of him. Gunmar was his first stop. The hunter was somewhere near Pinepeak Cavern. The hunter Max had met earlier had pointed him north of Ivarstead. "A rocky outcropping," he had said.

Maximus decided to leave Shadowmere in Ivarstead, continuing up the path on foot. He was looking for a redheaded (and bearded) Nord. Max had elected to change into lighter, less restricting attire, choosing a leather outfit and strapping a mace to his belt. The Dragonborn was not one for sneaking, but he could hunt quite well, thanks to his late wife's patience.

After a few detours to avoid kicking up a group of grazing deer, Max finally found a cave he hoped was Pinepeak Cavern. His search was cut short when a predatory growl could be heard. Max quickly moved behind the cover of a nearby pine, hoping the odiferous tree would mask his scent. He allowed himself to think back to better days, when he and Aela would take on bears, sometimes for food, other times just for a challenge. Aela often surprised him with her compassion towards animals, allowing the bear to live if it were not causing anyone trouble. Acts such as this proved Max's assumptions of hunters incorrect.

Maximus relaxed ever so slightly when he saw the bear head the opposite direction. Something clearly alarmed it, as it stood on two legs and scanned the area. A battle cry could be heard as a muscular Nord leapt from seemingly nowhere, flanking the angry bear. The man had a full red beard and long hair with two long braids in the front. They tossed about as he swung a single-handed war axe. The axe connected with the bear's hind leg. The massive creature roared in pain as its wounded leg gave out, blood flowing from a surely severed artery. The bear thundered to the ground on all fours, favoring the wounded rear leg. Blood and flesh continued to fly as the man, whom Max presumed to be Gunmar, hacked at the bear with tireless ferocity. Maximus decided not to interfere unless absolutely necessary. He continued to watch, slightly amused.

Gunmar had the situation under control and did away with the bear as quickly as possible. He managed to avoid any serious injury. He had only a few minor scratches, of which he was sure the redhead would brag about, as any Nord would. As he field dressed the animal, Max decided to approach the man.

"Are you Gunmar?" Max said, standing a good 15 feet from the man.

The man didn't flinch as Maximus had expected him to. He didn't even turn around from his gutting as he spoke, "You first."

Max watched as the man hefted the massive collection of vital organs from the bear's chest cavity.

"I work with Isran. I've been sent to ask for your help on his behalf."

"By the Eight, that's a name I never thought I'd hear again. Vampires are up to something, are they?"

Maximus nodded, "Something serious, Isran and I can explain once I round everyone up."

Gunmar nodded, "Been tracking this bear for two weeks. Soon as I finish here, I'll head to Fort Dawnguard."

* * *

The long journey to Morthal gave Max time to collect his thoughts and allow his mind to wander.

"_Cut it out you arses!" a girl's voice shouted. A young Maximus could only watch in wonder as the surprisingly tall blonde beat the pack of boys ruthlessly. The Samuelsson boys had taken a liking to torturing the young and undersized Maximus Oxholm. It seemed his peers resented him for his parentage. He was only half Nord._

Max's dark hair and eyes were strikingly similar to that of his Imperial mother. Alessia, an Imperial soldier, was forced to raise Maximus on her own for a majority of the boy's life as Max's father, Leif, died fighting the Forsworn at the infamous Markarth Incident. The Stormcloaks took back the city of Markarth under the promise that the Empire would restore the worship of Talos. As it so happened, the Empire crumbled under the pressure of the Aldmeri Dominion and rescinded upon the agreement. Ulfric Stormcloak was locked up, and the rest is history, really. Returning to his original memory, Max recalled the thrashing Mjoll had given to the neighbor boys. Though she was often called a 'freak' or a 'frost troll', Mjoll never seemed to heed the boys' taunts. She and Max would often go hunting and explore the ancient ruins together, in fact, Max's first kiss was in the frigid mountains of Haafingar, not far from the Nordic ruins. Sure, they'd gotten into loads of trouble and become friends and lovers, but nothing could prepare them for the disaster of which they would forever bonded. Loss.

_It was the 1__st__ of Heartfire, Maximus' fourteenth birthday. He and Mjoll had been celebrating in the form of hunting and harvesting a few stag. It had been a great morning, and the two decided to sit and watch the sun rise over Solitude. It was a spectacular view, the orange of the morning sun reflecting from the snow and crystalline icicles that lined the rooftops and towers. Even in the frigid morning, Imperal soldiers and Solitude guards could be seen going about their patrols and exercises. As a boy, Max had aspired to become a soldier of the Empire, but everything changed after his father's death. Alessia had resigned from her post and moved them from the city to the outskirts of the Solitude mill._

_Max watched as a hawk coasted gracefully along the air currents high above the ground. Like his parents, Max longed to do something great for Skyrim. What that was, he had no idea, but he knew there was no glory in blacksmithing even though it was what his mother wished of him. _

"_Remember when we were in the ruins and your mum thrashed those draugr?" Mjoll fondly recalled._

_Max frowned, "Yes." _

_After saving Max and Mjoll from being mauled by a draugr, his mother forbade Max from doing anything in the form of battle, save hunting. She still taught him how to defend himself, in the event that he should need to. It would come in handy this day._

"_That was exhilarating! We're much stronger now, we should try it again sometime soon! I think we could handle it," Mjoll's voice filled with excitement and mischief. _

_Max laughed, "We would be the ones getting thrashed this time if my mum found out."_

_Mjoll chuckled, "You're probably right," she gazed off into the sunrise. "Can I tell you something? Promise not to share it with anyone!" _

_Max nodded. Mjoll continued to watch the orange sunrise, "My father wants me to be a hunter like my brothers." _

"_That's better than a blacksmith," Max interrupted with a snort._

_Mjoll shoved Max playfully, "Listen! I wasn't finished!"_

_Max raised his hands defensively, "Fine!"_

"_Hunting animals for a living is okay, selling pelts and meat to traders and caravans. It's a simple life," Mjoll's eyes went down the edge of the cliff they sat upon._

_Max waited for her to finish, knowing very well what she was about to say._

"_But I want more of a challenge. I want to hunt something that can hunt back."_

_Max laughed, quickly speaking before Mjoll got the wrong impression, "Beating up the Samuelsson boys and your brothers getting old, is it?"_

_Being the youngest child of four and the only girl forced Mjoll to toughen up quickly. It was necessary for survival in that household._

_Mjoll chuckled heartily. "I suppose that is rather new for you," she jested. _

"_Hey! I've only just grown. Don't be so harsh," he responded playfully. Max was just now beginning to grow, his body still in its awkward in between phase._

_When Max looked in Mjoll's direction, her face was blank. Max reeled, unsure of what he had said to offend her._

_Before he could ask what the matter was, Mjoll spoke, "Is that smoke? Coming from the mill." She pointed in the direction of the mill to their right._

_Max could see a faint white cloud rising from the east, obscured by the trees._

"_That's too big for a campfire or a forge. We better go see what that is," Max said, his voice concerned._

Maximus returned from his intense memory, realizing that he had arrived in Morthal. Max rode Shadowmere to the nearby mill and dismounted, his fur cape sweeping the snow as he landed. Two men worked the mill, one of which Max knew from past encounters as Thonnir. Max had helped Morthal with its ghost problem and in return, he was quite liked by its denizens.

"Ah, hail _Dovah_! What can I do for you?" Thonnir greeted.

"I'm looking for someone," Max started.

"You've come to the right man," Thonnir assured as he and another hand rolled a log into the trench.

"Sorine Jurard, a Breton, expert on the Dwemer."

Thonnir switched on the saw, the log screeched as it was slowly cut in two. The two men pushed the log a bit further, allowing it to fall into the pile with other split logs. Thonnir walked back, wiping sweat from his forehead and smoothing his tied back hair, "The name sounds familiar."

"I was told she was camping out somewhere in The Reach. Any Dwemer ruins you know of?" Max prodded.

Thonnir hummed thoughtfully, sliding another log into place and feeding it through the saw.

"I've heard she set up camp south of Darkfall Cave, but that's about as close as I can point you. She's pretty cautious about who knows where she is," Thonnir said, not even attempting to ask the Dragonborn's purpose in finding the Breton.

"Thank you, Thonnir," Max said mounting his horse. "Here's a better axe, consider it payment."

Thonnir eyed the silver axe, ornate designs running the length of head, "Troubled times ahead?"

"Hopefully it won't even get so far as to create a ripple," Max said ambiguously.

Max had followed Thonnir's directions and after a bit of poking around, Maximus came across an abandoned satchel. Upon searching its contents he discovered it contained Dwemer gyros. Max decided it was against his better judgment to simply take the gyros. After all, who leaves a satchel of valuable Dwemer artifacts in the middle of The Reach? Max knew exactly who. If he were to gain her trust, Max knew he couldn't just go relieving Sorine of her things.

Max crossed a shallow brook, bringing Shadowmere towards a small camp. The location had been tactfully chosen, forest on the side facing the brook, and two small brush covered mounds on the other. Max couldn't help but recall Mjoll's comment labeling Jurard as paranoid. This camp fit the description.

The camp's owner stood facing away. She was a short woman with slightly longer than chin length brown hair. She wore leather armor and carried a tankard in her hand as she turned to face Max.

"Who are you?" the Breton asked, her voice slightly rattled.

"Isran sent me," Maximus responded blankly.

"That's a good start, but you didn't answer my question," the woman prodded, eyeing Max carefully.

"I am Maximus. Are you Sorine Jurard?"

The woman's eyes never fully met Max's as they talked. Her stale brown eyes always shifting along the area behind him, much to Max's annoyance.

"Isran requests your assistance at Fort Dawnguard immediately," Max said, as cordially as he could.

The woman finally relaxed and looked at him, "Fair enough. I'm in need of a favor, however."

Max suppressed an irritated sigh as he waited for her to speak.

"I seem to have lost my satchel. It has a few Dwemer artifacts in it. Could you find it for me?"

Max nodded and began to turn on heel towards the brook where he had last seen the aforementioned satchel. Before he could even take a step the Breton spoke, "Do you think Mudcrabs might have taken it? I saw one the other day…" the woman trailed off as if she were talking to herself.

Max did his best to suppress his short temper, clenching his fists and shoulders as he stomped over towards the satchel.

"_Mudcrabs!" _he muttered irritably as he picked up the satchel and took it to Sorine. _Why is it whenever I am sent on a quest I always end up running blasted errands?_

Much to Max's surprise, the camp was disassembled and efficiently packed upon a horse. This woman had clearly traveled a lot in her time.

As Sorine rode up alongside Max she spoke, "To Castle Dawnguard, then?"

Max nodded, "It would seem."

"Are there, by chance, any bandit bases on our way back? It's been awhile since I've traveled these roads," Sorine inquired.

"One or two, yes," Max responded.

"Well, I've been working on schematics for a crossbow ammunition improvement. The blasted thing was taken from me back when I was stupid enough to travel the roads alone," Sorine said, clearly upset with her old self.

"I'm afraid I won't be of much help," Max said, shrugging his bum shoulder.

Sorine reached into a pack on her horse's back, "I should be able to handle it myself, but in case you'd like to tag along," she trailed off as she pulled a collapsed crossbow from her pack. With a flick of her wrist, the crossbow snapped into position. Sorine cocked the spring into position and expertly fitted an arrow into the groove and handed it to Max. Max carefully inspected the crossbow, trying to understand how it worked, the loading process was simple enough.

"How do you fire it?" Max asked, slightly embarrassed.

Sorine smiled, "On the underside, there is a trigger. Careful, it has some velocity!"

Max spotted the trigger, "I see."

"It helps to have one of those handy when you're on the road. Did you know there are at least thirty different ways of being attacked and killed in your own home at any given moment?" Sorine said matter of factly. Max only grunted as if interested.

Max gingerly mounted Shadowmere, his left shoulder still giving him grief. He lightly squeezed his heels into Shadowmere's side the horse began to work up to a gallop. Sorine however, had to be a bit more aggressive to get her horse to match pace. It was times like these Max realized how much he took his undead companion for granted.

Sorine's value was not understated after all.

**A/N:**** I really worked to make the Dragonborn invested and tied into the lore of Skyrim without pushing the believability too far. Granted, I may have messed around with the Haafingar landscape a bit, but I hope you can overlook that. As for Max being only half Nord, I decided it was an interesting plot point to have the Empire/Stormcloak conflict in his very blood. You may be wondering about his 'memory' from earlier and what his decisions as far as the civil war were… But like every scumbag author, I'm gonna make you wait. Don't worry, I'll touch on it later. I miss Serana too.**


	5. A Wild Priest Chase

**Sorry for the wait everyone! I've been extremely busy and haven't found myself in the right frame of mind to write you a chapter worthy of your eyes. I hope you can forgive me. Anyways, I thank you for your wonderful comments. Yes, even your constructive criticisms. It helps me improve as a writer and make my fics that much better. So PLEASE, read & review. Enjoy!**

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Max sat on the edge of a thicket, peeking over the crest of a ridge. Below him rested a sleepy camp of unsuspecting bandits. Max clutched his crossbow anxiously as he looked on, trying his best to control the vengeance itch. His eyes glanced down at his bandaged left arm as a deterring reminder that he was in no condition to fight.

Max watched for Sorine in the shadowy night, the moon was at three quarter waxing. Max knew what would soon be coming whether her liked it or not, but he wouldn't allow himself to think of anything other than the task at hand. Though Max's hatred for bandits was difficult to ignore as the rage built within him, but the urge to become the wolf was all too tempting. When Max told Sorine of the vampires' plans, the Elder Scroll particularly, Sorine had insisted that the crossbow blueprint was even more vital to the Dawnguard's arsenal. So here they were.

Maximus could see Sorine at the edge of the camp, a crossbow in hand. There were ten raiders in all encamped around the ruined tower. It was Max's job to take care of the bandits on watch in the crumbling tower.

Sorine slowly looked up to Max on the hill and nodded so slightly that Max had to wait and see if she was in fact signaling him to attack.

Max glanced up at the tower. One bandit sat upon a chair, legs propped up on the highest story of the tower. He appeared to be snoozing.

_Of all the times to be napping..._

Max could see another bandit watchman on the outside stairs, leaning against the stone wall. Max was surprised the bandit hadn't seen Sorine yet. Taking aim, Max pointed the bead a few feet above and to the left the second bandit's head, compensating for the distance and wind. The arrow let loose with a _thunk_. The bolt landed a foot below its mark, hitting the bandit in the chest instead of the throat. The bandit began to struggle and make noise, attempting to dislodge the arrow from his chest. The bandit finally crumpled and fell from his post, crunching to the frozen earth. Max's eyes darted around, his wolf blood enhancing his nighttime vision. Much to his surprise, no one moved, save for Sorine. She made her move for the chest, sneaking towards the largest tent. Max watched her vanish into the tent. He listened carefully for the sounds of alarm. Though he wasn't going to intervene directly, Max would shout the _Strun-bah-qo _or storm call shout, sending a lovely Skyrim lightning storm towards the bandits should the alarm be raised.

Max's eyes instinctively went to a movement at the top of the tower. The dozing bandit had awakened and stretched sleepily. Max slid another bolt into place and attempted to aim at the bandit. At best, he could get lucky, but that was too much to hope for. He watched the bandit move down the winding stairs, preventing Maximus from getting a decent shot. Max held his breath, preparing a shout in his throat. The bandit was only steps around the corner from his comrade's body, Max held his breath.

Sorine immerged from the tent, crossbow in hand. Luckily, she noticed the bandit moving to her left. As soon as he rounded the corner, Sorine put a bolt in his throat. She put another bolt in her crossbow and crept from the camp. She came up alongside Max.

"Ready to leave?"

"_Strun-bah-qo!"_ Max unleashed the storm call shout, thunder and lightning bombarding the clearing. Screams of terror could be heard. Immune to the cries, Max stood and mounted Shadowmere.

"I am now."

Sorine gave him a disapproving look. "What was that for?" she asked.

"They would have raided countless caravans and travellers. Besides, I hate bandits." Max explained bitterly, repressing the wounds of old memories. He tapped his heels into Shadowmere's side. He reflexively began to turn the gold wedding band on his finger.

_Let it go, Max. He reminded himself grudgingly._

Some time after Sorine and Max met up with Gunmar on their way to Fort Dawnguard.

"Ah Sorine, Isran must really have his hands full if he's bringing us both back." Gunmar said, clearly not on good terms with the Dawnguard leader.

"Clearly. It must be important for him to play nice. He made it very clear last time we spoke that he no longer needed my help." Sorine said.

Gunmar snorted. "Uh, Maximus is it?"

Max raised his eyebrows in recognition as he looked Gunmar's direction.

"How's Isran's little fortress?" Gunmar said, referring to the massive fort as though it were a child's playhouse.

Max smirked, he was glad he wasn't the only one who didn't particularly like Isran. "It's finished as far as I know. Haven't had time to explore it, really."

As if on cue, the three came upon the sight of Fort Dawnguard in the distance.

"Huh," Sorine said, rather impressed, "Seems Isran's been busy."

The three were surprised with a strange interrogation from Isran. The three pathways from the main entrance were barred up and the torches were doused so only sunlight shone from a tiny opening in the ceiling lit the room.

"Alright Isran, you've got us here. What do you want?" Gunmar said impatiently.

"Hold it right there." Isran said rather coldly.

Isran's voice was low as he spoke, "Making sure you're not bloodsuckers. Can't be to careful." There was no hint of apology in Isran's voice.

"So welcome to Fort Dawnguard. I'm sure you have heard a bit of what were up against. Powerful vampires, ancient ones, unlike anything we've ever faced. And they are in possession of an Elder Scroll." Isran sounded much like the Imperial Legates, Max had encountered, Rikke especially.

"If anyone is to stand in their way, it's us."

"This is all well and good, but do we know what they're actually doing? Where do we begin?" Sorine's voice was suspicious as ever.

"I'll get you acquainted with that. For now, familiarize yourself with this place. You'll find a room to work on that crossbow design you've been after. Do you have it?"

"Yes, I'll start straight away." Sorine said, walking towards the right archway.

"Gunmar, there's an area large enough for you to pen up some trolls and get them armored up and ready for use." Isran ordered. Gunmar also walked off, getting right to work without a word.

Isran's voice became low and irritated, like it seemed to always be with Maximus. "In the meantime, Dragonborn, you're going to tell me why a vampire showed up here looking for you."

Max's face froze in bewilderment. His mind scrambled for an explanation.

"Let's go have a little chat with _it_, shall we?" Isran said his voice bordering on sadistic.

Max made his way up the stairs, as he approached Isran he could hear him mutter to himself. "I knew it would come to this one day, and no one listened to me." Isran turned and headed off down the hall. He turned to a room in which bales of hay were stacked near the entrance. Upon entering Max was shocked at what he saw. Dried blood was caked on the floor and a horrific tortured device sat in the left corner. Isran stood across from none other than Serana. Max stared at her for a moment in disbelief. What was she doing here? He suspiciously eyed the torture contraption once more and then inspected the vampire for signs of injury. He found none. Clearly Serana had persuaded Isran as she had Max. Perhaps not to the same level of trust, but she must have told Isran something he wanted to hear. Isran's eyes had the look of a caged animal. Max knew he should tread lightly.

"This _vampire _showed up while you were away." Isran's voice showing his already obvious hatred.

"I'm guessing this it's the same one from Dimhollow Crypt. Says it's got something _real_ important to tell you."

Max noticed Isran's refusal to refer to Serana as a being or gender, showing his hatred for vampires was deeper than it appeared. It wasn't merely an act to own a fancy fort.

Max and Isran both folded their arms and looked at Serana expectantly.

"I'm guessing you weren't expecting to see me again. I'd rather not be here either," she said glancing at Isran, "but I needed to talk to you."

Max cast a brief sideways glance at Isran as well. Serana's personal stake in the matter seemed awkward to discuss in front of Isran.

"Why are you here?" Max said carefully.

"It's important, so please listen before your friend, here loses his patience. It's…" She paused and crossed her arms.

"Well, it's about me. And the Scroll, that was buried with me."

Max could hear the shame she felt in her voice, much to his surprise. He had thought Serana to be the courier of the Elder Scroll and nothing more, logically, Harkon had chosen Serana because of the sensitive nature. However, Serana's expression told a different story that her words would elaborate upon.

"What about the scroll?" Max said, turning his head slightly in Isran's direction, he glanced over to see the fierce man's expression was more intrigued than it might otherwise lead on.

"The reason I had it… and why I was down there." Serana said, shifting slightly. Her voice continued to carry the shameful undertone.

"It all comes back to my father." She said, her voice clearly displeased with the said vampire. Max found himself suppressing the urge to voice his wary thought. _Of course it does._

Serana appeared to read Max's mind… or his expression and filled the silence.

"I'm guessing you figured that part out already, but my father's not exactly a good person. Even by vampire standards."

Max's head remained slightly tipped back and devout of expression as he stood in a relaxed stance pressing the majority of his weight on his right leg which rested a few feet behind the left. His arms remained crossed, even as Isran paced impatiently.

"He wasn't always like that, though. There was…" she struggled for an appropriate description. "A turn. He stumbled onto this obscure prophecy and just kind of lost himself in it."

Serana's tone pleaded to the listener's humanity, which Max found quite ironic, considering she nor her father were considered human any longer.

"It's pointless and vague, like all prophecies. The part he latched onto said that the vampires would no longer need to fear the sun. That's what he's after. He wants to control the sun, have vampires control the world."

Max looked at Isran, both wearing the same stone cold expression. This was more serious than they had thought. They never would have known if Serana had not risked her life coming here. Max hoped Isran realized this.

"Anyway," Serana continued, breaking the silence. "My mother and I tried to stop him before all of Tamriel was on our doorstep. That's why I was sealed away with the Scroll."

"You took a big risk coming here," Max said.

"I'm sorry, I had heard there were vampire hunters here. I thought they might want to know about a vampire plot to enslave the rest of the world," Serana said sarcastically, taunting them both.

"No, you're right. We just have to convince the others you're on our side," Max said, looking at Isran.

"Well, let's get to work. I'm nothing if not persuasive." Serana said coyly.

Max suppressed a smirk.

"You've heard what it has to say. Why shouldn't I kill this bloodsucking fiend right now?" Isran said impatiently.

Max's patience was beginning to wane. "Because we're going to need her help."

"Why, because of that story about the prophecy? About some vampire trying to put he sun out?" Isran ranted. "Do you actually believe any of that?" Isran's voice lowered in threat.

Maximus' patience drew shorter yet again.

"Why else would she risk her life to come here?" Max said. It was the only thing that made sense to him. Isran had not seen Harkon, otherwise, Max knew he wouldn't be so resistant.

"Who knows, maybe it has a death wish. Maybe it's just insane. I don't really care." Isran said irritably. The two stared each other down for a few seconds before Isran relented. "It can stay here for now, but if it so much as lays a finger on anyone here, I'll hold you responsible. Got it?"

Maximus nodded, annoyed.

Isran turned to Serana. "You hear me? Don't feel like a guest, because you're not. You're a resource, an asset. In the meantime, don't make me regret my sudden outburst of tolerance and generosity, because if you do, your friend here is going to pay for it."

Serana let the threat fall before her feet. "Thank you for your kindness. I'll remember it next time I'm feeling hungry." She said with cheeky sarcasm.

Serana changed the subject, "So, in case you haven't noticed, I still have the Elder Scroll. Whatever it says, I bet it will help us stop my father." She folded her arms. "But of course, neither of us can read it."

"I have the feeling you know someone who can, though." Max guessed.

"Moth Priests are the only ones I've heard of who can. They spend years preparing before they can do it, though." She said.

"Not that that helps us anyway," her tone was grim, "They're all half a continent away in Cyrodiil."

Isran, whom had been listening quietly in the corner, spoke up, "Some Imperial soldier arrived in Skyrim a few days ago. I was staking out the road when I saw him pass by. Maybe that's your Moth Priest."

Max had to admit he was surprised by this, though he did not show it.

"Do you know where this Moth Priest is now?" Serana asked hopefully.

"No, and I'm not wasting men searching. We're at war with your kind, and I intend to win." Isran said, his voice as intimidating as ever.

"Try talking to someone that sees numerous travelers. Like innkeepers and carriage drivers. But you're on your own."

Serana nodded and looked to Max, "Any ideas?"

"I know plenty of innkeepers and carriage drivers, but where exactly would a Moth Priest go?" Max inquired.

"Well, back before I… you know. The College at Winterhold would be the first place I would go for anything magical or historical. The wizards know about all sorts of things people shouldn't. But the quicker you find him the better, I'm sure my father is seeking this priest as well." She appeared to decide something, her expression changing slightly. "Actually, now that I think of it… I'm going to come along with you. I've been wanting to get out and explore a bit."

"Very well," Max obliged knowing there was no way he was going to talk her out of it. She was stubborn like most Nord women.

"Trail a bit behind me," Max said over his shoulder to Serana, pulling Rahgot, the ancient Nordic mask from his face.

"I'm going to speak with the carriage driver," he said looking down the path, the rattle of wooden wheels could be heard ahead of them.

Serana nodded, her pale features and glowing eyes shaded by her hood. The daylight was nearly gone, but her hood remained.

Max cantered up to the carriage driver He slowed Shadowmere to a trot, the menacing horse snorted, the water vapor freezing in the air like smoke.

The carriage driver appeared startled at first. The sound of the Dragonborn's voice calmed him. Max attributed his charisma to his Imperial mother.

"Good day, Sigaar."

"Ah, _Dovah_. It's been too long. It seems nowadays you are too famous to travel by carriage. I'm surprised you aren't flying about by dragon." The slight Nord jested. Max laughed heartily, and smiled. Serana maintained her distance, but she still could hear the conversation. She found herself wanting to laugh with Max. Of course she was eavesdropping, she had been asleep for centuries and had some catching up to do.

"No dragons. The horse was given to me." Max said.

"Listen, I was wondering if there have been any unique travelers lately." Max said.

Sigaar glanced back at his passenger, a short-haired Redguard woman leaned forward on the bench with her hands clasped together, she was obviously trying to act as though she wasn't listening.

"Hmmm, that depends on what you my by unique." Sigaar said slyly.

Max's smile fell into a hard line. "A priest. Have you or any of your comrades come across a priest?"

"Yes, a few from the temple of Kynareth." Sigaar said.

Serana had crept much closer to the carriage than she had thought. The carriage driver took notice.

"Is this Aela?" Sigaard inquired. "Do you remember me? I was your ride to and from your wedding in Riften." He said cheerily.

Serana could see the muscles in Max's neck tense.

"Oh yes," Serana nearly stammered. "It is good to see you." She swallowed. "I believe the priest Max seeks is not of Skyrim. Cyrodiil, if I'm not mistaken."

Sigaar's eyes went to his horses. "I recall transporting a priest the other day to Dragon Bridge, he wasn't like any priest I'd seen before. I think he said he was from Cyrodiil. That may be the priest you seek."

"Dragon Bridge," Serana affirmed, "Thank you."

With that Max and Shadowmere bolted down the path. Serana's roan struggled to keep up. Her head was spinning as she rounded the corner, she shouted to him. Finally, he slowed Shadowmere to a stop.

Max waited for her, his eyes shameful and distant as he avoided looking at her directly. Serana didn't understand why he was acting this way. She found her curiosity in his feelings and actions surrounding his wife strange. Serana pushed the thought aside for the moment. It was imperative they arrive before her father's thralls.

"We need to get to Dragon Bridge before the vampires do. They'll be seeking the same thing we are." She warned.

"I see. Let's not waste any time then." Max said tapping Shadowmere's side with his heels. He seemed eager to avoid conversation.

Max continued to force Aela from his mind, thinking of instead the task at hand. Still, he could feel the darkness pull at him. Aela, the wolf inside him called to him. After all, it was Aela's blood that transformed Max into the child of Hircine, the eventual Harbinger of the famed Companions guild. Max had taken painstaking care to prevent the nature of the inner circle a closely guarded secret. Only the werewolves themselves knew of the secret gift. No matter how he tried, Max couldn't cover Aela's tracks completely. She grew careless in her final weeks, but he had never understood why. It seemed she would never come to terms with Skyrim's rejection of the night hunters. Her actions, her death was shame he wholeheartedly carried. It was ever present, though he may not show so much as he used to. He missed her, and he always would. But in his mind, Max knew that if he remained the way he was, he would soon join her in Hircine's realm. While it was what he had first aimed for in joining the Dark Brotherhood, he knew it was not what he wanted. He was not the hunter Aela was. Once Max had tasted Sovngarde, he knew there was no other place he wanted to be. In the same land as his father, and he hoped, his mother.

Max removed the ring from his finger and placed strung it upon the chord he pulled from his neck. It rested next to his mother's amulet of Talos and his father's amulet of Kynareth. He returned the chord to its place and began to play with the pieces, remembering how he got them.

The amulet of Kynareth had been the first. Max could still remember that day as though it were yesterday, though it had been nearly thirty years. Max had been only five.

_Alessia read the story of the Tiber Septim, the famed warrior turned god. "Talos," Alessia said to Max, looking into her son's eyes, "Is the protector of questing heroes. He was once the Dragonborn, with a powerful voice that could fell an army, called a Thu'um." Max stared up at her, wonderstruck. Alessia couldn't believe how much Max looked like his Nord father. Lucky for him, she thought. For being anything but in this land is a struggle. Alessia was confident her son would make it though, he had a close friend in a neighbor girl from the hunting family, her name was Mjoll._

"_Thu'um." Max said correctly._

_Alessia smiled at her boy sadly. She and Leif had done their best to be as involved as possible in Maximus' upbringing, but unfortunately their professions made it nearly impossible to be around at the same time. It had been months since she and her husband had been in the same bed, let alone room. Despite his lone wolf demeanor, Leif was a lovable man and a great father._

"_Did he fight real dragons, mum?" Max asked with wonder._

"_Of course he did, Max." Alessia was stopped short by a knock on the door. The trio of thuds on the door forced her heart to pound along with them. Alessia dropped the book unintentionally. She picked it up and handed it Max._

"_Max, go in the other room." She ordered. Max protested but he obeyed__…__ to a certain extent._

_Max peered in from the kitchen. He could see his Mum's hand on her Imperial style dagger as she opened the door. It hung from her right hip so as not to be seen from the other side of the door. This, Max had noticed early on. He would not understand this fear his mother carried until an older age. _

_Alessia opened the door, Nord soldiers stood before her. Horns protruding from their helmets and the smell of studded leather could be faintly smelled on the icy breeze that entered the room. Ice and snow clung to their bodies, even dangling from their beards like ornaments. Their faces were weary and their shoulders heavy. _

"_Mrs. Oxholm?" one man said._

"_Yes?"_

"_I regret to say that your husband has fallen at Markarth at the hands of the forsworn. Skyrim thanks your family for their sacrifice," the man's eyes fell, knowing no apology would suffice, but still he tried, "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. Leif was like a brother." The man said solemnly. _

_Max watched his mother's strong stance drop to her knees in despair. Max cried out catching everyone's attention, tears rolled down his face. His mother would not look at him though. She only stared at the floor and asked, "What of the Forsworn and of the Legion." Both of the Nords' faces contorted at the mention of the Legion. "The Legion has betrayed and recanted on their agreement. A dark era dawns on Skyrim." Max expected the men to drag his mother away. After all, she was a legionnaire. But the man only said, "You have my sympathies," handed his mother something. The other Nord at the door briefly made eye contact with Max. Then glanced back at Alessia, clearly seeing the mixed heritage in the young boy. He said nothing and followed his superior into the frosty night._

_Max felt a rage build within him. He wanted his father back. He wanted him to walk through that door and scoop him up and thump him in the chest like he always did. But the Forsworn and the Legion took that from him. Before his mother could say anything, Max stormed from the house and went to find Mjoll._

Max was brought from the memory by the sound of Serana's voice.

"Aren't you tired?" she asked.

Max shook his head, "I don't sleep much anymore. Much like you, I'm a creature of the night."

Serana did not appear as though she accepted this explanation.

"And yet you always look tired."

"Werewolves don't sleep much at all. If we don't turn as regularly as we should, we experience… side effects." Max said, sounding uncomfortable.

Serana nodded, "Vampires grow stronger if they fast from blood, but also grow weaker to sunlight," she lifted the limp hood from her shoulders slightly, "Hence the hood."

Max nodded with a slight smirk, "Hence the dark circles."

Serana smirked. She could see the dark rings that formed beneath the Dragonborn's dark brown eyes, she also noticed the slight golden rings that encircled his pupils. Serana felt both threatened and intrigued. Max seemed older than he actually was. If she had to guess, Serana bet Max wasn't more than thirty.

After nearly a half an hour of silence Max finally spoke.

"Why defy your father? You are a vampire, would you not benefit from the ritual?" Max said, being uncharacteristically blunt.

"Well," Serana said, staring out to the dark road before her. It was nearing midnight.

"It was never really a question to me," she said looking at Max sincerely. His demeanor had softened significantly and his eyes were cautious.

"My father and I never really saw eye to eye, even when I was a child. He was always so… cold. My parents fought all the time and I was caught in the middle. When we became vampires things worsened, they became consumed with the need for power. I felt like a means to an end to my parents. A pawn. When my mother discovered his plans, she sent me away to protect me from them." Serana realized she was ranting. She looked apologetically at Max who nodded reassuringly. She still couldn't find the courage to tell him that _she_ was the vital piece Harkon sought. She feared he would treat her differently, not like an ally, but a valuable object. He was the only friend she had and she was risking a great deal in trying to remain so.

"It's a brave thing you are doing. Skyrim wouldn't have a chance if not for you." Max said a slight smile on his lips. His words deeply sincere.

Serana was thankful for her unwavering pale complexion, for if she were truly living, she would have blushed. She still suspected Max sensed this.

She decided to change the subject, unwilling to go into full detail about everything that led to this decision. She still just _couldn't _tell him.

"What about your parents? Are all parents like mine?" Serana almost pleaded, nearly begging for reassurance and to forget her estranged family for a moment.

Max's face was expressionless for awhile. Then a smile crept onto his face. Serana thanked the benefits of her vampirism, otherwise she never would have seen it. The starlight that danced overhead wouldn't have been enough to see the genuine smile.

"My parents," he paused briefly in thought or perhaps nostalgia, "They were good people. Strong people. They believed in Skyrim." He looked up at the sky briefly, "I miss them."

Serana face froze in shock when she realized what Max had said.

"Oh," she said awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

Max cut her off, "It's fine, I have that chapter in past squared away."

Serana breathed a sigh of relief, she couldn't help but remain curious.

"What were they like?" She asked, feeling like a child again.

"My father was a big man, broad shoulders and thick beard that tickled me when he picked me up." Max said his tone wavering into a laugh. Serana laughed with him.

"His name was Leif. He would always thump me in the chest and toss me around like a straw doll. I always loved rough housing with him. He never spoke much. Mum always said he was more of an actions person. He was never in the house since he loved the outdoors so much, he would always take me camping. I was five when he died in the Markarth Incident." Max said. He realized Serana probably didn't know what that was, but she didn't ask.

"Leif. That's a Nord name if I've ever heard one. He sounds a lot like you," Serana mused, "What about your mother?"

"My mother, Alessia, was an Imperial soldier. She would always read me books about the Nine, especially Talos. She would take me to Solitude on her days off and I would listen to the bards while she had a drink. It was tough taking care of me by herself. I remember the last time I spent with her, it was when General Tullius was given command of the Skyrim chapter of the Imperial Legion. My Mum was in the honor guard so I got to watch her march in the parade. I used to think that was most impressive thing I ever saw."

"So I suppose that's where you got your Imperial name from?" Serana inquired.

Max nodded, but continued to peer down the road.

Serana realized he hadn't said how Alessia had died. She wasn't sure if he was willing to share it.

"We're getting close." Max said quietly. His eyes darted around the small, sleepy village that lay ahead. Serana followed him closely as they left their horses just at the edge of the village. Serana swore she heard Max whisper to Shadowmere before he left. She followed Max into the village, his nearly black armor making him look twice as large as he walked.

A guard approached him as they entered the town. Instinctively, Serana avoided eye contact with the guard, casting her eyes down.

"Hail Sir," Max said, getting the guard's attention, "We seek a Moth Priest and were told to look here."

The guard nodded, "Aye, the Moth Priest left not too long ago, if you hurry now you can catch him." The guard pointed to the other side of the village, a path lead out of town and rounded a corner.

The guard continued past them with a curt nod.

Max turned to Serana.

"We won't catch him on foot. Your father's men will have set a trap for him along the trail."

"But the horses are a ways back," Serana said.

Max placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

"You take Shadowmere and ride ahead," Max said, his voice made it clear he wasn't to be questioned. "I'll be right behind you."

"You want me to ride into a trap!" Serana exclaimed.

The undead horse's eyes glowed as it thundered towards them, it snorted, steamy breath visible rising from its nostrils.

"Trust me," Max said, promptly placing his hands on Serana's waist and tossing her into the saddle. Serana's eyes were wide as she looked back at where she had originally been standing. Max was already in a dead sprint for woods. A shout pierced the air as he bolted into the woods with the assistance of the Whirlwind Shout.

_You need to pick your protectors more wisely, Serana. _


	6. Vampires and Werewolves and Lionnesses?

**I'm slightly impressed with myself, you know, getting a chapter out within a reasonable time frame, that is.** **I'm doing my best to keep writing while the inspiration is still there. **

**By the way, I recall Bud89 complimenting my Dragonborn DLC reference... To be completely honest, I have not played the Dragonborn DLC... *hides face in shame* so I have no idea what I may have referenced. Feel free to PM me, I don't mind having it spoiled. I do have an explanation as to why I have not played it though. D****ue an unfortunate series of events, my Maximus Skyrim account no longer exists... It was devastating... My beautiful estate... Gone... My epic armor... Gone... *deep sigh***

**I will probably do the same I did for the Mass Effect 3 DLCs and just watch it on youtube. Besides, I was too pissed at BioWare to buy anymore of their products. But I digress.**

**Thank you everyone for the reviews last chapter. I'm glad to see you are still on board, it inspires me to continue writing. ****Anyways, I hope you guys like it. Read and review please, I like to know what you guys think. Otherwise I'll assume you absolutely loved it... Which I hope you do, but if you have suggestions, PM or comment. **

**Enough rambling... Enjoy.**

* * *

Shadowmere cantered over the bridge at an impressive speed. Serana flopped back and forth trying to stay upright. A tear formed in her eye as the wind whipped her face, it was getting increasingly difficult to see. Not that it mattered, the horse had a plan all of his own.

A large piece shaped like a dragon's head hung down, threatening to dismount… and possibly dismember Serana. She swung herself to the left, narrowly missing the solid stone. Serana clenched her stomach in an effort to reorient herself on the saddle. She saw trees and wilderness on the path before her, but no Moth Priest or anyone for that matter, save for a fox.

Upon cresting a small rise in the road, Serana saw the roads part. One path went to the left, heading towards a boulder covered landscape and another stone bridge. Her other option was to go directly ahead. A toppled wagon lay ahead, it looked promising, yet a knot formed in Serana's stomach. She feared they were too late. And where was Max?

Shadowmere slowed to a trot as they approached the toppled wagon. Blood pooled around askew corpses that littered the ground. Serana's nose tingled and her mouth watered at the scent of the fairly fresh blood. It was maybe a few hours old at most. She saw vampires among the dead. It must have been a fierce fight, judging by the lacerations and defensive wounds. Something caught Serana's eye as the breeze rolled through the valley. A piece of paper lay next to a dead vampire. Serana gingerly pulled the note from underneath the corpse's arm and unfolded it. It spoke of their hunt for the Moth Priest, they had waited for him to leave Dragonbridge, just as she and Max had suspected. Despite his ego issues, Harkon was not foolish in his choices. He was tactful and patient… if need be.

Serana continued to read, the sun peeking over the mountains making it easier to see. Serana instinctively pulled her hood over her face. The priest was in the cave. They meant to make a thrall of him. Serana opened one of the compartments on Shadowmere's saddle and placed the note inside, she recognized the name Malkus. She gave the horse a slight nudge with her heel and approached the cave ahead. Her father would not win, even if she had to stop him single-handedly. Serana followed the blood trail to the cave the note called 'Forebears' Hideout'. Blood was caked on the walls. Serana hoped the blood was not from he priest despite this she knew she must hurry. She slid off of Shadowmere and drew her dagger, her free hand tingled with magic. She noticed a stag nearby sniff the air. It looked off to the east and trotted away hurriedly in the opposite direction. Serana supposed it was her own scent or perhaps the blood that scared the stag.

The green moss that lined the rock walls glowed in the torchlight from below. The downward slant was somewhat foreboding. Serana knew this place was very old, she could feel old magic at work here.

Upon turning the corner, the cavern widened greatly into a massive chasm. In the center of what remained of the narrow pathways was a central platform. It exuded a magical glow. Serana feared she was too late. There appeared to be a protective barrier around the occupants. Serana knew this Malkus would be there. She feared the Moth Priest was already a thrall.

Serana crept down the crumbling staircase of what once had been an ancient dwelling. Then again, she supposed, it wasn't much older than she.

Thankfully, the noise from the rushing river that ran through the center of the room muffled her footfalls.

She spotted an armored vampire patrolling over a crumbling wall. Serana knew that if she wasn't careful it would be game over and the whole posse would be upon her.

Serana weighed the knife in her hand carefully and crouched low so as not to be seen. She brought her right arm back and flung the knife end over end at the unsuspecting vampire. It successfully imbedded itself in the undead's face, sending him directly to the ground. Serana held her breath, listening for any sort of alarm.

She heard a few soft pads nearby and a sniffing sound. Serana's stomach dropped when she heard the growl of her father's death hounds. One barked and the sound of others on the way could be heard. _Not good._

Serana scurried across the flowing stream and put her back to the stone wall. The howls of death hounds drew nearer with every passing second until a powerful, terrifying howl radiated through the chasm.

Serana's eyes widened. What had her father created now?

Serana watched breathlessly as a huge beast with glowing eyes and razor sharp teeth tore through the cave with terrific speed. It's powerful four-legged sprint nearly making it a blur. The sounds of the death hounds cowering and mass panic among the vampires made Serana think twice. She watched as the beast ran past her, completely ignoring her, save for a brief moment of eye contact. It took Serana a moment to realize something. The pair of wolf's eyes she saw looking at her, dark brown with gold around the pupil…Maximus.

Serana could hear carnage ensue as the yelps of death hounds filled the cave. Serana peered around the corner, summoning necromancer's magic to her palms. She watched in surprise as the large beast stood on two legs as if a man and hurled a death hound as thought it were a doll. It flew into the large bonfire that burned at the center of the retaining wall with a high-pitched screech. The werewolf's impressive muscles bulged as it hoisted an attacking vampire up with one long, muscular arm and tore the vampire's head from its shoulders with its teeth. The sound was a rather disgusting pop. It dropped the decapitated corpse and head to the floor. It dropped down to all fours, and stalked carefully up the stairs, a low growl in its throat. Serana moved forward into the clearing and reanimated one of the death hounds that lay intact. A purplish-blue aura of magic surrounded the hound as it proceeded towards the magical barrier at the center of the room.

When Serana caught up with who she presumed to be Max in an alternate form, she saw that the individuals standing near the magical barrier had not heard the conflict outside. Serana felt a blast of wind hit her as she scaled the stairs. The source appeared to be the magical barrier.

A harsh voice called out from within, "The more you fight me, the more you will suffer, mortal." Serana presumed the voice to be Malkus. The priest wasn't giving in though. "I resist you." He said adamantly to his captor. Serana had to commend the priest's bravery in the face of evil.

She glanced over her shoulder to see the werewolf maul a vampire fledgling, her screams sounding distant in the magical wind. Serana blinked in surprise, she hadn't seen the slim fledgling behind her. The werewolf growled as Malkus spoke, "How long do you think you can keep this up, Moth Priest?" the vampire taunted.

Before anything else could be said, the werewolf lunged forward towards Malkus. He gashed the vampire with his right claw, but Malkus had managed to avoid the full blow. Max's momentum sent him straight into the barrier, a loud zap filling the air. The sound was followed by a wolf's whimper. Malkus summoned a powerful spell in his hand, one that Serana doubted the werewolf could withstand. She directed her reanimated death hounds at Malkus and simultaneous cast a draining spell, taking the magicka straight from Malkus' body. Malkus' attention turned to Serana, as did the attention of one of his fledglings. Both charged at her, slowed slightly by the pestering from the death hounds. Serana glanced to Max who was still trying to stand steadily, clearly attempting to recover from the after effects. Serana knew she was in serious trouble, she continued to back up slowly knowing her father wanted her alive.

"Ah Serana," Malkus cooed, his fledgling merely growling at her.

"Your father will be most pleased with me should I return you to Vrolikhar with the Moth Priest," he said, his teeth lined with pieces of flesh and innards. "Seeing as you are one of the key ingredients to drowning out the cursed sun."

Serana began to summon the best ward spell she could come up with. Come to think of it, she couldn't even recall the name of it. It was one she learned from her mother. She quickly cast it, a ward completely surrounding her. Just as she did, her werewolf protector slaughtered both the master and the fledgling in one forceful swipe. The werewolf stared at Serana, blood dripping from his fangs. He then looked up to where the sky would be and let out a terrific howl. Serana felt the barrier before her dissipate and vanish. What remained of Malkus' posse came at them, weak fledglings that merely cowered as Max tore them apart. After a bit, a sense of urgency seemed to possess the werewolf, quickly the wolf ran off. A white light briefly lit the area in which he had headed.

Serana's attention was taken by the sound of the Moth Priest's voice.

"The Weystone! It goes in the pedestal up the way! It will release me!" his weary voice pleaded.

Serana found the glowing patterned stone lying near Malkus' shredded corpse and began up the stairs.

She set the Weystone carefully in the slot but nothing appeared to happen. Serana realized the stone needed to be pushed further into the slot. She grunted as she attempted to budge the stone. She felt a warm presence behind her and two massive hands grasped the Weystone next to hers. The combined effort put the stone in its proper place. The barrier fell and the priest was free. Serana turned to Max who wore clothes from what looked like one of his fallen enemies. She discerned this based on the fact that it barely fit around his built body. The seams seemed to threaten to break at any moment, Max's thick shoulders proving difficult to contain. She could still see evidence of the werewolf in his features. She could actually see the hair recede from his face and his teeth shorten into that of a human's. It was almost fascinating. Serana smirked at Max's well-maintained physique as it poked out of the fur outfit, "So I guess you're not all armor." Max pursed his lips as if resisting a smile, but it did not stop his cheeks from reddening slightly. "I guess not." His attention immediately turned to the priest, clearly not wanting to continue the topic.

"I serve my master's will!" the Priest shouted. "But my master is dead, and his enemies will pay!"

"That can't be good." Serana deadpanned. Just as she had spoke a fireball blazed clear above their heads. They both crouched.

"What's the matter with him?" Max asked.

"He's a thrall." Serana said, "We have to knock him out to get him back to normal." Max prepared to face the priest. "I'm on it."

"But don't kill him!" Serana shouted to the burly Dragonborn as he leapt from the upper level.

Max rolled to the left narrowly dodging a swing of the priest's staff. He used the momentum to lurch forward and uppercut the priest in the chin. His head was the first thing to hit the ground it sounded with a loud thud. Max looked back up at Serana. She gave him the thumbs up and chuckled. "That should do it."

The priest slowly moved back up to his feet.

"That… That wasn't me you were fighting." the aging priest insisted.

"Are you alright?" Serana asked.

"Yes, thank the divines for you! My name is Dexion Evicus. I'm a Moth Priest of the White Gold Tower." Max noticed the old man's impressive beard that ran all the way down his collar. He wore faded tan robes and carried wooden staff.

"These vampires claimed they had some purpose for me, but they wouldn't say what. Probably to ransom me," he scoffed, "The fools!"

"I know why they needed you, because we need you for the same purpose." Max said carefully.

The priest looked confused, "You do? Alright then, enough mysteries."

"We're called the Dawnguard, and we need you to read an Elder Scroll." Serana could see Max was doing his best to be brief without alienating the priest.

The Dexion's face was one of awe, "You have an Elder Scroll? Remarkable!"

Serana felt herself relax slightly at this. Dexion seemed to be a good natured person.

The priest glanced at Serana then spoke to Max. "If my knowledge of history serves me, I recall that the Dawnguard was an ancient order of vampire hunters." He glanced at Serana again, though he didn't appear to worried.

"I will be happy to assist you with your Elder Scroll. Just tell me where I need to go." Dexion said cheerily. Serana found herself smiling, this old man was rather refreshing.

Max smiled at the man, "Thank you. We must first go to Fort Dawnguard. We will accompany you there to make sure you arrive safely. You'll need to speak with our leader." Max turned and began towards the entrance, no doubt eager to back in his own clothes.

Dexion seemed surprised as he spoke to Serana, "I'm not sure whom I should be more afraid of… Him or the vampires."

Serana snorted in laughter.

* * *

After collecting his armor, Max returned to Serana and Dexion, who were standing near the horses. It seemed Dragon Bridge had been in a little skirmish of its own. Vampire corpses were being stacked outside the city by the guards.

It was beginning to become light out and the Moth Priest was definitely tired. Max knew they needed to stop somewhere but Dragon Bridge was not that place. Too much had happened to simply stick around. No doubt the Volkihar vampires would be upon them if they were to linger. They needed to go somewhere more populated. Even then, they were not safe, but at least there would be more help around Max should he need it. The only place that seemed fit was Solitude, which lie a few miles north west of Dragon Bridge. If there were any place that could hold against the vampires, Solitude would be it.

"We ride for Solitude. Our travels will be safer if we continue that direction, the Empire has increased patrols along those roads." Max said, looking at both Dexion and Serana.

"Ah, my fellow Imperials. Your trust is well placed, my friend. Though if I don't overstep my bounds, I find it peculiar for a Nord."

"We're not all the same. Some of us see the Empire as the only thing that stands between Skyrim and the Aldmeri Dominion. We'd be no match without them, something Ulfric Stormcloak failed to see."

Max felt his temper flare slightly at the thought of Ulfric Stormcloak. It seemed prison had changed the once honorable Nord. Max understood Ulfric's cause, the Empire did wrong the Nords. Hell, his father had died because of that mistake. One thing that had always bothered Max's father about Ulfric was his seemingly baseless racism towards anyone. Max being an Imperial-Nord mix would never have sat well with Ulfric had he become Skyrim's High King.

Max quickly mounted the horse, attempting to hide his distaste for the topic. He looked off into the distance for a moment, then back to Serana and Dexion. He eyed the two then the single horse. One of them was going to have to pair up, or walk. Serana realized this and sighed slightly. She took a chance at lightening the mood, knowing very well it could backfire and she would end up walking.

"Oh of course, you wouldn't want a man riding behind a lady now would you? Shall I ride side saddle?" Serana said with a sarcastic curtsey. Much to her surprise, Max and Dexion both laughed. Max reached out a hand, which Serana took. With one effortless pull, Serana was sitting behind the most powerful man in Skyrim. He reached over to the blue roan on which Dexion sat. Behind Dexion was Max's ebony armor. Max grabbed the fur shawl he often wore over his armor to keep him warm. He handed it to Serana.

"Something to sit on," was all Max said. Serana appreciated the gesture, placing the soft fur beneath her. It instantly made the horse's bare rear a little more tolerable. With that, they were off.

Serana couldn't help but think of Max's hostility towards the topic of the apparent civil war she had slept through. She knew that the civil war had been very personal for Max. Serana suspected that somehow the topic of the civil war and Max's mother, Alessia were related.

As Serana gazed around at the mountains in the dim light, she couldn't help but comment. "This is the kind of thing I've wanted to see. Makes everything else worth it."

Max didn't turn around when he spoke, but his tone showed some pride.

"I was born here, at the Solitude Sawmill."

As they came upon the sawmill, Serana saw armored men patrolling the perimeter. Happy families going about their usual morning and children playing in the woods. It was a very peaceful and happy looking place to raise a family. Serana swore she heard a group of children playing 'Dragons and Dovahkiin'. She wasn't sure if Max noticed that or not, but it was kind of cute and humbling in a way. It put into perspective just how widely known Max was. Serana didn't know the exact details, but somehow Max had saved Skyrim from peril. If she ever got time, Serana intended to find out the full story.

The large windmill came into view and Serana's eyes widened, "I'd read stories about the Solitude Windmill, but I didn't expect it to be that big!"

Serana could hear Dexion chuckle.

As they came upon the stable, a Nord man took their horses, "Hail _Dovah_! For you, I will keep your horses free of charge!" Max smiled at the man in appreciation, but refused.

"I appreciate the gesture friend, but I can't accept your kindness." Max tossed the man a purse of gold.

"Welcome home, Maximus." The man said warmly.

* * *

Upon entering Solitude's gates, Serana marveled at the great castle the towered over the rest of the old city. She had always looked out at it from her castle, but it was even bigger and more beautiful than she remembered. She noticed how everyone appeared to smile at Max or nod in respect. What really caught her off guard was when the Legionnaires saluted the Dragonborn, calling him 'Legate'. To which he returned a respectful nod.

Dexion was the first to act on this, "You are a Legate of the Imperial Empire?"

Max nodded, "Yes, though I'm on indefinite leave, we are in a time of peace and there is no need for me."

Serana didn't know exactly what a Legate was, but judging by Dexion's reaction, it was pretty impressive. She was beginning to wonder what Max didn't do.

Busy people walked about the cobblestone streets and legionnaires and guards alike moved about their business. Children darted about, dodging one another in a game of tag. It was a very lively despite it being early morning.

Finally, Max and his companions stopped at a large estate, he peered into one of the windows as if looking to see if someone was home and then pounded on the front door. A tall Nord woman answered the door. She was dressed in dwarven armor that was a few shades darker than her golden hair. An expensive looking circlet peered out from her thick hair. A clan marking of a blue stripe adorning the left side of her face, she was and intimidating presence standing taller than the Dragonborn himself, yet she wore a pleasant smile on her face.

Max looked confused, "Mjoll? What are you doing here?"

The Nord woman, Mjoll, gestured for them to come inside. Max appeared to make himself at home, setting down his travel bags and armor and helping himself to an apple. He motioned for Serana and Dexion to do the same. Neither of them did though, too puzzled by this encounter to eat.

"I've hit a stone wall in Riften. People are still vanishing, nobles even. I don't know where they go outside the walls. The nobility in Riften are in terror, mostly their sons are disappearing, a few daughters. As much as I hate to say it, if we have no wealth in Riften the situation with crime and skooma is only going to get worse." The woman's face looked dire. An Imperial man, nearly a foot shorter than Mjoll stepped into the room as well.

"We heard from Sigaar that you were after a Moth Priest. We remembered you mentioning a vampire problem and we wondered if our goals were intertwined." Aerin said, looking at Dexion. Serana could feel this Mjoll eyeing her warily.

"We went to Dragon Bridge but the guards said you had already left. We stuck around for a while." Mjoll continued, "Lucky for them we stayed, had we not, they would have been overrun by the vampires. We decided to leave after that, figuring you had already moved on somewhere else. We decided to stay here for the night on our way back."

Max sat with his arms crossed, an apple core sitting on the table.

"As you probably guessed, we have the Moth Priest. We were just stopping to rest on our way back to Fort Dawnguard.

Mjoll eyed Serana again, "We?"

Max stood, a slightly defensive edge to his motions, "Yes, this is Serana. She has been helping me. Her knowledge of the vampires' goals have allowed us to get even thus far."

Aerin was the one to speak up, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't _she _a vampire?"

Max's irritation became more evident as he gripped the table until his knuckles turned white. It was obvious he was getting tired of explaining things to every person he met.

Serana spoke up, deftly hiding her irritation, "We are not all the same." Serana could feel Max cast a sideways glance at her.

Dexion attempted to diffuse the tension, "She isn't like the vampires that captured me. She saved my life." His voice had an endearing matter-of-fact tone that old men sometimes have.

Mjoll was the one to speak first, "If Max trusts her, I do as well."

Max nodded in appreciation, "As for your problem, I'm not sure what to tell you. I may be able to get some answers from Isran." Max changed the subject, "For now you may as well travel with us. Your sword will be of much help, Mjoll. We need to get Dexion here back to Fort Dawnguard alive and unharmed."

Mjoll smiled, folding a bent arm to her chest and bowing slightly. "It would be my honor, old friend."

"Now," Max said in a lighter tone, "I'm in need of a stiff drink. Priest, you better get some rest, we've a long journey tomorrow."

Dexion stood slowly, "You don't have to tell me twice." He left the room.

Aerin stood as well, "I'll stay here and keep an eye on him, just in case the vampires try and get crafty."

Mjoll smiled, "Ah Imperials, they always wilt after a long day." She jested.

Max laughed, "Like my father always used to say Nords don't sleep."

Mjoll laughed along with him, "I actually remember that."

Serana paused from her laughter at hearing that, her previous suspicions of Mjoll and Max now seemed incorrect.

"Are you coming, Serana?" Max asked, catching Serana in thought.

"Oh, I better not, people might get suspicious." Serana said uncomfortably.

Mjoll waved a hand, "Oh come on, we'll be the only ones there save for the bard. You can pay them to keep a secret just as much as you pay them to sing."

Serana smirked at the two warriors laughing. It seemed the days were beginning to blur together.

She silently followed them to tavern called the Winking Skeever. Serana found the name amusing. This was her first time drinking… in a _very _long time.

* * *

**I plan on the next chapter being a pub scene, at least for a portion of it. I'll also be awarding an imaginary gold star to anyone who recognizes and OC that I inserted in the next chapter. She's a real and rather famous person among the Skyrim lovers. Please read and review! I love to hear from you all! Thank you for sticking with me thus far! I'll be back soon.**


	7. Interlude: Downtime in Solitude

**This chapter is a little off the beaten path, but it allows some character development. There isn't any action unfortunately, but there will be no shortage in future chapters. I like to think that while they're out questing, even the Dragonborn takes some R&R time, even if it's a stiff drink.**

* * *

After Mjoll had changed from her armor to casual clothes, they made their way to tavern. Max had declined changing, insisting he remain in his armor for some reason. Old habits die hard, they supposed.

The Winking Skeever was actually much nicer than the name would lead on. Serana glanced around the room self-consciously, watching curious looks. She and Mjoll sat at the long table that sat in the middle of the room, facing what looked like a stage. Serana could smell pine and soap, a telltale sign of a very profitable night for the tavern. She smirked at the passed out patrons that lay strewn about the tavern. Some slept half sitting up, while others obviously landed and continued to lie askew on the floor. The occasional groans and snores at least showed they were still alive.

Mjoll snickered and pointed to a woman passed out on the floor who was snuggled up to a cheese wheel as if it were the finest feather pillow. Serana nodded in the direction of a man who slept sitting up, his back to the wall and a half-eaten meat pie sitting his lap. The crumbs of food still hanging in his beard and dancing about as he snored. Mjoll chortled as she moved towards the long table in the center of the room. Serana followed suit sitting down next to her. She continued to look at the small stage. Various musical instruments were lined along a wooden trunk, presumably containing sheet music. Serana tried to remember the names of all of the instruments. A lute, a flute, and a… lyre? Serana tried to remember what the U shaped instrument was called. She wanted to say a harp, but she knew this was incorrect. Her thoughts were interrupted by a pewter tankard being placed before her. Serana realized Max was sitting right in front of her. His arms were crossed and resting on the table as if cradling his drink.

Max had a ghost of a smile on his face when he spoke, "Nothing but whiskey for you, my friend." He said, looking at Mjoll with a smirk. His attention turned to Serana, "And mead for the lady." He said holding his tankard out to them.

"Here's to friends, old and new." Mjoll said with a smile.

They all clinked their tankards together, the froth dribbling down the sides as they all took a swig.

The mead was sweet but had a bite. Serana remembered it had been a long time since she drank anything, alcoholic and otherwise. She sat her tankard down awkwardly watching the condensation from her companions' ice cold drinks drip down the sides. Her drink however was slightly below room temperature, chilled perhaps. She realized that Mjoll and Max were still chugging away.

They sucked in a large breath as they pounded their cups down. Max smiled at Mjoll, Serana noticed it was a genuine smile. An especially rare occurrence in Serana's experience, though it seemed to be in good supply around his 'old friend'. Part of her wondered just how this profound bond was formed between the two warriors.

Max took Mjoll's tankard. He looked at Serana's drink, realizing she hadn't finished. Serana looked at him rather sheepishly. He only chuckled lightly, "Fear not, neither of us expect you to keep up with us. No pressure. And I can always get you something a little more watered down…" he teased.

Serana took a moment to take in how handsome Max really was. Especially now with that slight sparkle in his eyes, telling Serana he was relaxed. Going a whim, Serana decided she wasn't going to pass up this chance to get to know Skyrim's greatest hero.

Her tone was playful and sarcastic, bordering on sassy, "Don't threaten me with a good time." She said with a wan smile.

Max had returned to get refills several times… More than necessary to be at least happily drunk. The tavern had livened up significantly and laughter could be heard all around.

Serana decided this was good opportunity to pick Mjoll's liquored up brain. Serana had forgotten that alcohol had no effect on her, one of the many things that saddened her about her condition.

"So Mjoll, you and Max go back a ways?" Serana asked carefully.

Mjoll nodded, "A ways back is an understatement. We met when we were only toddlers of three."

Serana blinked in surprise. "Wow." She tried to remember anyone besides her parents that she had known that long, but then she realized the comparison wasn't exactly fair.

"Max's mother was out and about quite a bit as a legionnaire so he spent a good amount of time with my family. We kids would always beat up on each other. Max was always small so I had to keep an eye on him. That was until he grew… finally." Mjoll said with a drunken chuckle. Her words were surprisingly clear for being under the influence. "I was the youngest of five brothers…" Mjoll stared at the table as if processing what she had just said, her brow furrowed, "I mean, I was the only girl… and the youngest child." she laughed at her own misstep.

Serana laughed lightly. She didn't think there was much to the usage of past tense in referring to her family, but as it lingered, Serana grew curious.

"Was?"

Mjoll's face told nothing of what she was about to say, "My family was killed by bandits." Mjoll paused for a moment she was surprisingly calm considering the subject.

"As was Alessia, Max's mother. We were twelve. Bandits set fire to our village. I actually saw a bandit laugh as he ran my brother through. Alessia put up a hell of a fight, but she didn't make it." Mjoll said sadly. She gazed off into the nearby hearth, the blaze a painful metaphor.

Serana's eyes fell to the floor. Max had no family. She understood now why he had been reluctant to discuss his family, particularly his mother. Now Serana knew why.

Having a loved one die was one thing, but to witness their death at the hands of violence must be horrific. Serana couldn't imagine losing her parents to such malice at such a young age. Now, well, she was basically aiding in overthrowing her father…Which most likely entailed his demise.

Serana took another swig, this one much larger than the last few.

The sound of tankards clunking on the table brought Serana back to the present.

Max sat down across from them. He eyed both Mjoll and Serana. He knew something was up. They both had peculiar expressions on their faces.

"So…" Max said rather awkwardly, trying to break the silence.

"Did I miss something?"

Mjoll was the first to respond, "Serana was asking me how we knew each other."

Max smirked, "Oh and I'm sure you told her about how you were my babysitter for most of our youth?"

Mjoll laughed, "More like protector." She corrected

"More like a bully. And _then_ a swooning admirer." Max said playfully.

Mjoll's faced reddened slightly despite her warpaint.

"Oh come now, Max. We used to think those little courtings were a serious relationship but then you met Aela and that blew our teenage years out of the water!" Mjoll said with a laugh, trying to deflect Max's jab. Serana perked up, she had heard the name before.

Max's laugh was noticeably disheartened.

"Can we not talk about that?" Max said uncomfortably. His eyes avoided looking at either of women seated across from him.

"What? Our stupid teenage years?" Mjoll said, taking another poorly coordinated swig of her drink, nearly missing her mouth entirely.

"You know damn well who." Max said bitterly. Serana noticed Max's behavior was similar to the last time this Aela came up.

Max's mind was racing, his temper was especially short given the number of drinks he'd consumed. He didn't understand why Mjoll was putting him on the spot like this. Perhaps she was simply drunk or he had embarrassed her in bringing up their past flings. Max decided it best to go for a leak, though he didn't really have to go all that badly.

Mjoll appeared to come to her senses, "My apologies. The drink appears to have soiled my social filter."

Max's expression changed into a slight, forced smile, "It's alright. Now, if you'll excuse me for a bit."

He didn't wait for anyone's approval, taking his drink in his massive hands and standing. His shoulders were drawn back and tense as he walked away, somewhat in the direction of the restrooms. The crowd appeared to gather and swallow him up so Serana could no longer see him.

_Well, this has been sufficiently…awkward._

Serana noticed a woman walked up on the stage. She sat down the chair she carried and began to look over the instruments. _A bard._

The hung over crowd collectively began to orient themselves so they could see the stage clearly. Most were tearing into the various platters of finger foods. Serana noticed she was the only person who sat upright. Everyone else, Mjoll included, was hunched over the long central table. Serana glanced around nervously and made sure she didn't call any attention to herself. Mjoll appeared to be a lot less cheery than she had been a few minutes ago. The fun they had been having was now dissolved.

Serana decided it better to watch the bard like everyone else. She found it hard to tell whether the woman was Nord or Imperial. Then again, Serana herself didn't appear definitively one or the other.

The bard's brown hair fell to her shoulders and appeared very carefully styled and pressed so that it was straight through its majority and then curled inwards slightly, framing her pretty face. She seemed to always be wearing a slight smile as she went about her business. Serana had yet to see a bard so happy. Glancing around, everyone in the crowd seemed to recognize her, despite their condition. Serana then noticed a much fresher faced crowd entered. They all cheered as she waved to them. She patiently waited for the cheers to subside before speaking.

"I was originally planning on checking my sound at this time. As I was scheduled to perform to all of you tonight, but as it seems, we have a very special guest in our midst that I would like to recognize.

Mjoll whispered to Serana, "That's Malukah. She's a famous bard, one of the best if I hear correctly. She's been to just about everywhere to perform. Even for the Emperor himself."

"Everyone, please the warmest of welcomes to Skyrim's greatest hero… Maximus, our beloved and legendary _Dovahkiin._" Malukah said, casting a hand in Max's direction. He reluctantly moved onto the stage, a slight smile upon his face. He looked uncomfortable with the amount of attention he was receiving. Scanning the crowd, he found Serana and exchanged a nervous glance.

Judging by the bard's ability to pronounce Nordic words, she must have been a Nord after all.

Finally the crowd died down and allowed Malukah to speak again.

"In honor of you, Maximus, it would be my honor to perform a song. One in particular that has become popular in Skyrim. Everyone, if you could help remind me of that song?" she asked the audience, a playful smile on her face.

"The Dragonborn Comes!" Many shouted back.

Max appeared to say something to Malukah and pass something to her as they shook hands. She laughed at whatever he said, her smile was surprisingly endearing. For being so famous, she didn't appear in the slightest bit arrogant.

Max shook her hand, and with a much less apprehensive demeanor, he left the stage and made his way towards the bar. There he received a free drink and took a seat, watching the performance.

"_Our hero, our hero claims a warrior's heart. I tell you, I tell you the Dragonborn comes. With a voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art. Believe, believe the Dragonborn comes." _

Serana watched the bard as she plucked away at the lute, she now knew now why Malukah was so famous. She had a way of singing with such a clarity and effortless grace that subtly grabbed your attention. Serana briefly glanced at Max. His attention was firmly on the performer.

"_It's and to the evil of all Skyrim's foes. Beware, beware the Dragonborn comes. For the darkness has passed and the legend yet grow. You'll know, you'll know the Dragonborn's come." The wordless chorus came, in which the bard had cleverly redone from the song that was originally made for an all male choir. It seemed as though there were multiple voices singing this part, it was then Serana realized there actually were other singers… the audience themselves._

"_Dovakiin, Dovahkiin,_

_naal ok zin los vahriin, _

_wah dein vokul, _

_mahfaeraak ahst vaal,_

_ahrk fin norok paal graan, _

_fod nus thon zindro zaan, _

_Dovahkiin fah hin kogaan mu draal."_

With the song concluded and the uproarious applause sounded. Serana found herself clapping madly as the surprisingly modest and shy performer took her bow. The bard glanced at Max and smiled, she then pointed to him, directing the applause to inspiration of the song himself. He nodded curtly and then was swallowed by the crowd.

After carefully searching the bar, Serana found Max outside, but Mjoll was nowhere to be seen. Max's arms were crossed at his chest and his back rested against the Solitude wall. He looked conflicted as he squinted into the light. Serana felt the twinge of the sun, prompting her to pull her hood overhead.

"Are you okay?" Serana carefully asked.

Max's face was apologetic, "You don't need to worry about me. You have enough on your mind. I'm just taking a moment."

Serana smiled at the implication, "You're that soused? Or was that performance too humbling for you to handle?"

Max smiled sadly, "It was great," he said rather quietly

Serana got the feeling there was more to it.

"I suppose it doesn't feel right to be celebrating though. Today seven years ago my wife, Aela, died. I wanted to go drink to forget it, but…"

Serana took a moment to process what had been said. She decided it better to let him continue, as this was very personal.

"It seems I'm still having a hard time letting go." He said looking away. He seemed ashamed, but the pain in his eyes was unmistakable. Serana knew it all too well.

Serana decided to provide her perspective, though she wasn't the most proficient in consoling. She decided to speak from her own experience.

"I don't think it's so much about letting go, but more about carrying on." Serana said carefully. When she saw Max's puzzled look she clarified. "There's nothing wrong with remembering her and missing her, but you can't let it keep you from living your life." She held her hands up defensively before he could say anything, "I know, I know, coming from a vampire who was locked in a stone coffin for centuries."

Max shook his head and almost chuckled at what she said. "You're right, though."

Serana patted him on the shoulder reassuringly.

"Hopefully saving Skyrim from certain doom can help you take your mind from it."

Max nodded in affirmation, "You'd think so."

Serana decided to change the subject, "By the way, where's your friend?"

"I walked her back. She as well the others should be ready to leave in a few hours. In the mean time I need to make a few purchases." Max looked out at the wooden shop signs that hung along the way as he spoke, trying to form a mental list. He needed some more healing salve for his hand and shoulder, it had been difficult keeping the wounds from breaking open, especially when riding, but using his beast form for the first time in quite awhile had enhanced the healing a quite a bit. He also made note to get more bandages and disease resistant potions for Mjoll, Aerin, and Dexion. They could never be too careful with blooded vampires.

"Anything I can do to help?" Serana offered.

"Are you any good with alchemy?"

Serana nodded, "I'm better than most. My mother spent most of her… lives… experimenting with it. I picked some of though it's been awhile."

As she spoke Max removed his gauntlet and unwrapped his hand. Serana was a bit surprised that he trusted her resolve enough to reveal a wound with her around.

The less than pleasant sound of a bandage being forced apart from the oozing wound caused Serana to wince a little, more at the sudden scent of blood than the sound.

Max looked at her cautiously, waiting for a response.

Serana struggled to gain her composure, though she schooled her features to a blank expression. She was a famished vampire. She felt a combination of hunger and disgust. The unmistakable scent of her natural enemy was especially strong and to a vampire, revolting. She knew that Max's blood would taste just the same as any man's in his natural form, making resisting all the more difficult. Serana took a calming breath and looked at the grisly wound. From the looks of things, his hand had been completely impaled. Thankfully, his index and ring finger bones had parted enough so they didn't break, they were surprisingly white as they protruded slightly at the sides of the wound. Serana's eyes shot wide as she realized something.

"How did you get this?" Serana said shakily.

"There was a pedestal in Dimhollow right before I found you. I pushed the button at the center of it and a spike shot up through there. And then shortly after there you were." Max said, his voice showing he could tell something was wrong. He gave her a concerned look.

Serana's eyes glazed over as she thought back to the day she first entered Dimhollow Crypt.

_Serana remembered the ever-present feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. "Hurry!" Valerica urged, "There's no time! Your father's thralls aren't far behind us." Serana shuffled after her mother. She was angry though she knew it did not matter in the least. There was no choice in the matter. If she allowed herself to be caught, Serana knew she would die...Fully. Her mother had told her hundreds of times. Serana had been fasting for months in preparation for this day so when she awoke, she would be especially powerful. Today had taken her by total surprise. Her father had made his move. Check. Serana could see metaphorical chess piece move in her imagination. It was her mother versus her father. Light versus dark. Valerica was determined to never allow an endgame move. No matter what, Harkon would not have Serana._

_Valerica had been vague in the details but had remained adamant that this was the only thing she could do to protect Serana. "Your father's gone mad." She'd said nearly a hundred times over. She practically lived in her secret alchemy lab the last few months, obviously searching for a solution. Without warning, she was told today was it._

_Serana clutched Francois' hand as they ran together, trying to keep pace with Valerica. _

_Francois was the only friend Serana had made in her time as a vampire. He had faithfully kept her secret for years. It didn't seem fair that he had to be here. Serana regretted telling him of what was to occur. But then again he was the only person she felt she could talk to anymore. The rift between her parents and their individual obsessions. Her father with the so called 'prophecy' and her mother with the supposed 'soul cairn'. It was all too much for her to handle on her own. _

_Finally, they came upon correct room. A strange pedestal sat the center, an eerie glow of light from the world above added to the effect. The button at the center of the column glowed an eerie red around the edges. Valerica moved up to it with an air of caution and inspected it. _

"_This is it," she said with a tone of finality._

_Serana could do nothing but stare._

"_Get over here!" Valerica ordered, grasping Serana's other hand and yanking her forward. Serana stole a glance back at Francois, his light green eyes held knowledge of something. They carried a strange sense of purpose in them like always, but in this situation it was different somehow. Her intuition warned her, but she couldn't connect the dots in time. He knew she was going away forever and he seemed calm despite all of the chaos around them. His small, elven-like frame was telltale of his bi-racial parentage. He was what he Nords and elves called 'Manmer'. The word was to describe the half Nord, half elf blood the Breton possessed. But 'Manmer' had become something of a dirty slang. Francois found it difficult to fit in with the other Nords and often kept to himself when he was younger, being an outlander from High Rock. He met Serana in the direst of circumstances when he was venturing to Winterhold in his early twenties, aspiring to be accepted in their ranks. She had saved his life from highwaymen._

_Valerica turned to Francois, her eyes were purposeful, "Do it."_

_Before Serana knew what was happening, Francois stepped forward and placed his hand on the pedestal, where the button had once been a spike shot up. Francois cried out in pain as the spike impaled his hand. He reflexively clutched it with the other hand as it shook uncontrollably. The sight gushing blood overruled the adrenaline as he began to panic and feel the pain in its entirety. As he fell to his knees purple, fire filled the braziers in which Valerica had already moved into place. A monolith rose from the ground accompanied by a horrific scraping noise of stone upon stone. Serana screamed in horror as she watched her friend's misery. Valerica wouldn't allow her much time though. _

"_Serana get in there!" Valerica shouted, pointing to the stone tomb._

_Serana could only look at her friend, "Francois!"_

_Francois managed to look up to her. She knew he didn't have much time. The magic involved in this ritual was too powerful for his body to handle. It took all he could give. It was then Serana realized that this struggle was more than just about her, Francois was repaying a debt, but also protecting the people of Skyrim from an undeserved fate. Serana mouthed a thank you and a goodbye to Francois, to which he managed a smile. She saw his mouth move, but his voice was barely a whisper. "Now we're even." He said with a pained smirk._

_Serana felt tears filling her eyes as she stepped into the tomb. She turned and placed her back against the stone. Valerica reached out and patted her daughter's hand, "I can't let him have you, nor does Skyrim deserve such a fate. I do not know how long it will be. It may even be forever. It will take a strong hero to free you from this eternal sleep. You must be his guide. I'm sorry dear. It's the only way. May I see you again in the dawn." She said as a final goodbye. Valerica slid the stone so it closed the tomb. Serana felt herself sliding downward into darkness, her tears continuing to run down her face. She noticed her breath getting shorter as she used the last of the oxygen within her tomb. Serana fell into a deep sleep, calling to Molag Bol to wake her up someday when the pain of losing her only friend had healed. She hoped the years would change her father, but she doubted it._

"Serana?" Max said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Serana came back to the present at Max's slight shake. She blinked a few times. Here he was, the protagonist of her own prophecy. She had known it all along, but things really made sense to her now. Her final moments before she began her 'hibernation' per say were becoming clearer.

"Bones," Was all Serana could manage as she connected the dots.

"What?"

"Were there are bones near where you found me?" Serana asked. She realized how futile the question was. It was unlikely Max would remember. And after so many years so many things could have happened to Francois' remains.

"No, I don't recall any." Max said honestly.

Serana looked down sadly for a moment.

"Why do you ask?

"I-It took sacrifice to put me into that tomb." Serana said.

Max realized what she meant.

"Oh, I'm sorry I can't be of more help."

Serana finally met his gaze. "It took sacrifice to free me as well. Whether you intended it or not."

Max's brow squinted in question, "What do you mean?"

"There was magic involved. It takes a strong soul to survive the sacrifice," Serana explained. "It was very old and powerful magic that made my hiding place possible."

Max glanced at his hand.

Serana touched his hand gently, "It is likely your hand will never properly heal… unless." Serana cut herself off realizing what she was about to suggest.

"Unless?" Max prodded.

Serana shook her head, "I'm not even sure if it would work. Besides you'd never agree to it."

Max seemed a little peeved at Serana's vagueness. "Fine. But as I was saying early I'm going to need some potions for the other three since they have no natural resistance to disease. Particularly vampirism."

Serana obeyed and went about looking for an apothecary. She felt slightly relieved he didn't press her about his wound. She would have to think more on the topic before she was ready to reveal anything to her protector.

Max entered Angeline's Aromatics toting a sack filled with food. He was instantly assaulted by the scents of alchemical herbs. Serana was in the corner looking over the shelves of herbs, they were all neatly organized and individually labeled in alphabetical order.

Max could sense unease in Serana's posture. Angeline and Vivienne both look uncomfortable as well. They both greeted him with smiles and waves. He smiled back, hoping to draw their attention away from Serana. Max looked around the room looking quite impressed.

"This place has become much more organized since last I was here."

"Vivienne spent the last week sorting everything." Angeline said proudly. Serana watched the exchange from the corner of her eye while still making the most of the distraction, gathering supplies for a few potions to help resist vampire venom. This Vivienne was quite the beautiful young thing. She shyly smiled as Max spoke.

"I was never very adept in the ways of penmanship. It would take me months to get everything in order, let alone alphabetize it." He joked at his own expense.

The two women laughed at his plight.

"So, any word from your daughter?" Max said to the older woman.

"Yes we received a letter from Fura shortly after the defense of Whiterun. She says she was a part of it. She talks in great length about how easy you made everything look. Fura said you and Legate Rikke barely allowed the Stormcloaks to get in range of her bow.

Max smiled modestly, "Our units helped too. We kept the pressure on them so the archers could pick them off. It was a combined effort of many brave feats that lead to victory."

Serana stole a glance at the group and could see the enamored looks on the faces of the two shop keeps. It was that damn voice Max had, not only was it masculine and attractive, but his eloquent way of speaking that inspired even the most skeptical and narrow-minded.

Angeline glanced from Vivienne to Maximus before speaking. "You know, Vivienne is a smart girl and still not spoken for." The old woman bluntly said. Vivienne turned scarlet, her mouth falling open in embarrassment and outrage. "Aunt Angeline!" The sound of a fallen mortar thumping on the floor startled everyone, drawing their attention from the argument.

Everyone stared at Serana as she awkwardly bent over and picked up the fallen pestle and set it on the table.

Vivienne took the opportunity to change the topic. "Are you all set, ma'am?"

Serana stopped silently cursing at herself and nodded, "Yes. How much for these?" she said meekly.

"Seventy gold." Vivienne said with an uncomfortable smile.

Max reached into his coin purse and slipped Serana the cash discreetly beneath the cover of the counter. It was just out of sight of the shopkeepers.

Max decided he would answer Angeline's inquiry for the sake of a decent distraction. He was surprised they hadn't noticed Serana's eyes yet. Her peculiar behavior only added to their suspicion.

"While I appreciate the thought, Angeline, I'm much to busy to consider settling down. It seems Skyrim is my wedded wife, and she's a demanding one."

Angeline laughed lightly, Vivienne even lighter so as she took Serana's money. Serana couldn't help but noticed Vivienne looked a little disappointed, though she hid it well. Max made a point to avoid making eye contact with Serana as she turned and exited the shop. Max decided he needed to delay his exit a bit more.

"Well, I hope that Fura finds herself home soon. Good luck to you both as well." Max said with a courteous smile.

"Good luck to you too, _Dovakiin_."

* * *

**This chapter is a little slow as far as moving along with the story, but I felt like the rest of the group needed a rest. Whereas Max and Serana are both unnatural creatures (werewolf and vampire), making them much more hardy to travel and less in need of rest. I've actually broke out my old Xbox… I'm talking the original Xbox and playing Morrowind. I never could get very far in that game but considering how long ago that was. I was pretty young at the time and couldn't figure out the quests and how to adjust the difficulty settings. Most of the time I would just attack Ra'virr and elude the authorities. For a youngin' that was really entertaining… **** I'd like to hear from you guys. Even if it's just conversational. I'd also like to weigh in on Bioshock Infinite… Great game! I give it a 9.5 out of 10. The .5 was deducted because it was difficult to do side quests with the way the game was set up. Also the ending left me confused… It reminded me of Inception in a way. Really messed with my head. But in a strange way, I liked it. It was quirky. Anyways, it's worth the money and time, if you have both. As for waiting for the price to drop… That's totally up to you. **

**One final announcement, I have been reading around other people's Serana fics and I've liked them. If anyone is interested in weighing in on how you think my story should go, by all means, PM me. I will never turn away suggestions. **


	8. Trust Me

**We're at the 100 follow mark! Woohoo! Thank you everyone for your interest in this story! I hope to keep improving as summer approaches. That will mean more frequent updates so keep an eye out.**

**I've decided to respond to comments here instead.**

**Negrath: I realize now what you mean. I suppose I was just casting my rage at the name on the game case. Seeing now that EA was voted as the worst company in America (though that may be pushing it) tells me where my ire should be directed. The Citadel DLC however made me a believer again. Thanks for bringing this to my attention.**

**dane293584: Thanks! I'm glad you like the details I add. I feel that these make a much smoother storyline so that readers can understand what motivates each of the main characters. It also gives them personality.**

**Zero121: Thank you! I'm glad you can appreciate chapters without action. I was a bit pensive about how the readers would respond to no action, but no one yelled at me, so I think I might incorporate more interlude chapters in the future. Glad to see another Malukah fan!**

**FinalReason: You're welcome! And to delight you even more, here's another chapter!**

**Skylark: Thank you! Look forward to hearing your thoughts more!**

**Madgormley: I am planning on continuing it into the summer. So be ready!**

* * *

As the group loaded up to head out, Serana counted the number of horses. There were four. She looked back at their traveling party. There were five. Serana narrowed her eyes as she glanced around at everyone, but no one seemed to notice. She made her way over to Max.

"We're short a horse, what are we supposed to do with Dexion?" Serana inquired. Max smiled at her in a peculiar way, "_Dexion_, is going to be riding your horse. And _you _are going to be riding with him."

Serana opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She glanced over at Dexion whom was already on the horse. He gave her a good-natured, albeit suggestive wink that old men often do. She turned and glared at Max who was barely containing a laugh.

"Well, I'm glad to have brightened your mood!" She said sarcastically.

Max smiled, "Yes, but I do have something for you."

Serana's curiosity piqued despite her irritation, "What?"

"I know you lost your dagger in that last cave we were in, so I went and found and old one that was given to me. He pulled a sheathed dagger from his bag, the blade was curved and looked to have been quite old…maybe even older than Serana herself. When Max drew it from a sheathe somewhere on his armor it turned a reddish color, revealing it had some sort of enchantment.

"It's called the Blade of Woe. One prick," Max said, mimicking a stab at an invisible opponent, "And a little of their life force becomes yours." She grabbed the dagger and inspected it more closely.

Serana did her best to hide how impressed she was.

"Is this a bribe?"

Max smiled, "Is it working?"

Serana continued to turn the blade in her hands, "Yes."

Serana looked up to Dexion, "You hear that old man? Let's keep things civil."

Dexion smiled, "I'm a priest. What could I possibly want with conflict?"

Serana laughed as she climbed onto the back of her blue roan.

Max hopped on Shadowmere, taking the lead of the pack. They took on a triangular shape. Max was at the point, while Mjoll and Aerin fanned out on each side of the road. Dexion and Serana on their horse were at the center of the protective arc.

They took off on their long journey to Fort Dawnguard and it's surly leader, Isran.

* * *

After a day's travel, the mortal beings of the party pleaded to stop for some rest. Well, Aerin that is. Mjoll seemed content to continue riding, no doubt used to strenuous travel. Dexion was obviously tired, though he didn't complain. After arguing for a half an hour, Max relented, allowing them to stop at an abandoned camp just out of sight from the road.

Serana grew tired of looking at the scenery and tried to start up small talk with Mjoll. She found the tall woman keeping guard on the side of the camp opposite Max, near the woods.

"Mjoll!" she called out.

At first she seemed alarmed, assuming that Serana was alerting her of an attack, but she calmed when she saw no worry on Serana's features.

"What is it, friend?"

"How are you feeling?"

Mjoll's expression was cheerful, "Better than ever. The fresh air is exactly what I need."

Serana smiled, she then glanced over at Max who was keeping watch of the road. He didn't appear to notice their conversation or perhaps he was simply ignoring it. Aerin and Dexion were busy cooking and moving equipment.

"How'd you meet your friend here?" Serana motioned to Aerin. Serana wondered if Mjoll heard her for she appeared distracted.

Before anyone knew what was happening a man flew from the woods, hissing. He pounced on top of Mjoll before she could draw her weapon and knocked her to the ground. His disgusting yellowing fangs protruding from his mouth as he moved to bite his prey. Mjoll managed to get her forearm between her neck and the vampire's fangs, taking the impact in a less fatal location. Mjoll grunted in pain as the poisonous fangs pierced her arm. They managed to slip through the openings in her dwarven gauntlet. Though the gauntlet managed to prevent the vampire from doing any immediate damage.

Serana moved to attack the vampire when the sound of more hissing behind her mad her stop dead in her tracks.

Serana turned just in time to see a female blooded vampire lurching towards her. Serana rolled to one side, avoiding the attack completely. She came back up to her feet and plunged the Blade of Woe into where the heart should be. The vampire twitched as the power was sucked from her. Serana could feel the tingle of life force filling her veins. She knew the vampire wasn't dead so she thrust the Blade of Woe into her again and again, blood spurting in all directions. Serana ruefully remembered why she preferred magic, much cleaner and less gruesome… in most cases.

Serana worriedly glanced over at Mjoll. She could smell her blood, knowing the attacking vampires did too. Mjoll was still struggling with one vampire. Serana could see Max sprinting at an impressive speed towards his fallen friend. He let loose a powerful thu'um that sent Mjoll's attacker flying.

_FUS-RO-DAH!_

More vampires descended on the wounded Nord. The snap of Max's leather back sheathe could be heard as he drew his ebony longsword.

Max swung the heavy sword as though it were paper, his mighty blow decapitating an oncoming vampire, blood sprayed everywhere in a morbidly impressive fashion. Max spun with the momentum of his sword and delivered a backwards thrust at his left hip, piercing the torso of another vampire. He forced the sword downwards into the vampire's torso and pulled it free. Another blooded vampire used the opportunity to jump Max. The vampire's bite managed to scratch Max's face, but the vampire found himself impaled upon Max's sword. Max took the full weight of the attack and reversed it. Sending the lifeless vampire's body to the ground, and stomping onto its body and pulled his sword free. He drove his shoulder into the next oncoming vampire and drove him into the ground. Another vampire leapt at Max but he cut it from the sky. Serana sprinted forward and fired an ice spike at the grounded vampire, which put the stunned vampire out for good. Serana looked over at Max who glared off into the distance. Three gashes went down the side of his face crossing his brow and going down onto his cheeks. He didn't appear to even notice as the blood began to trickle down his face. Serana instinctually held her breath in attempt to ignore the whiff of his blood.

Angrily, Max let loose a growl. He appeared to speak under his breath but Serana couldn't hear what was said as it was no more than a whisper. She could feel the tingle of magic as he spoke though. His eyes darted around looking for more vampires, but he appeared to see none. Serana glanced around looking for more vampires too. She found none, secretly she wondered how Max could possibly know there weren't any more vampires around but she decided now wasn't the time to question his judgment, considering his incredible success. She watched Max run over to Mjoll, he was breathing heavily. Serana could see Dexion and Aerin unharmed and moving over to them as well.

Serana looked down at Mjoll's injuries. They weren't severe, but the formidable Nord was still writhing about as though in the worst possible pain. Serana knew exactly what the problem was. It was the poison of the vampire's bite. If not treated soon, Mjoll would turn into a vampire herself.

Max looked at Serana's desperately. Without a word, his eyes pleaded her to do whatever was necessary to save his old friend.

Serana stood and sprinted over to her pack. She fumbled through the potions, finding the cure disease one. She could still hear Mjoll's groans of pain and Max's attempts at calming her. Serana walked as quickly as she could without spilling the potion vial's contents. She saw Max shove Aerin away from Mjoll without looking up, trying to create room for his friend to breathe. Dexion appeared to have gotten the message and grasped the Imperial's shoulder, still he fought to be closer to Mjoll. Serana had always sensed a tension between Max and Aerin, this was no exception.

Serana returned to a kneeling position beside Mjoll. She looked at Max, "Sit her up."

Max apologized multiple times to his friend as he gently sat her up. Serana reached forward with the vial and began pouring it into her mouth.

"Drink it," Serana gently prodded.

Mjoll obliged, though she continued to thrash about in pain.

Max's eyes were wide with terror, "It's not working!" he yelled at Serana.

Serana felt a bit attacked by his words, but after a glance at Mjoll she saw he was right.

"I can't…" Serana stammered.

"You can't what? Max asked.

"I can't heal her. We need something to purge the poison like…"

"My blood," Max said, finishing her sentence.

Serana felt her gut drop. She didn't want him to do this. He was already injured enough.

"Max it's too risky!" Serana tried.

Max wasn't having it.

"Give me the vial." He ordered, pointing to the recently emptied vial.

"Max-" Serana protested.

"_Give _me the vial!" He pressed.

Serana obliged reluctantly.

Max removed the gauntlet from his injured hand and held it over the vial. He looked at Serana, his eyes more determined than she had ever seen them. He removed a gauntlet and dabbed the wound on his face. He smeared the blood between his fingers but didn't appear to be satisfied with the amount of blood.

"My wrist." He said, nodding towards it.

Serana realized what he was asking her to do.

"I can't do it myself, Serana. Not with that blade." Max explained, referencing the Blade of Woe's magical powers. His voice was firm and reassuring.

"Serana, now." Max ordered.

Serana wiped the leftover blood from the blade on her pants. She slowly brought the blade towards Max's wrist. She took a deep breath and held it. Hoping it would delay smelling his blood. As if smelling Mjoll's wasn't enough. The blood of a werewolf wasn't a pleasant scent to vampires, but one that must be extinguished.

Serana reached out at slit Max's wrist lightly. Much to her surprise he pressed against it, making the cut deeper. Dark blood seeped from his veins, but yet Max showed no signs of pain. Once he was satisfied with the amount he began to pour it into Mjoll's mouth. Serana could feel her system resist the enchantment's effects. Werewolf and vampire blood crossing was all but impossible.

Serana felt the overwhelming power of the fragments of his life force as it crossed over to her via the dagger. If was becoming nearly impossible for her to resist all of the blood in the vicinity, Max's especially, having indirectly tasted its power. Serana knew now, why her father had offered Max their pure blood. He was powerful enough to tip the balance on whatever side he chose. Serana was glad Max was on the side of the Dawnguard. Though she wondered where it left her.

Max was desperate. He couldn't lose the only family he had left. He couldn't lose Mjoll. He knew what he asked of Serana was more than he had ever asked of anyone. Part of him felt guilty of this. If Serana were to turn on him, it would ultimately be his fault.

His eyes never left Mjoll's as she struggled for a few minutes. Gagging and sputtering then she went very still, letting out a long breath. Max's eyes widened desperately. _No…_ He looked over at Serana who shook uncontrollably. She was struggling to stay calm.

Max looked back at Mjoll who had regained some color to her cheeks, her chest moved up and down slightly. She was alive. Max looked back at Serana with a thankful expression. It took a great deal of control not to hug her right there. It wasn't an appropriate gesture at the moment anyways, he was covered in essentially food in Serana's case.

Max looked up to Dexion, "Get all the blankets you can ready, she needs to stay warm and near a fire. But once you set her down move out of sight. Take some herbs with you and break them up. She won't smell you that way."

Dexion nodded and drug Aerin with him. Max dipped a hand in the snow and began to use it to clean his wounds.

"You're stronger than you think, Serana." He said, confidence and trust apparent in his eyes.

Serana nodded and smiled slightly. The glow in her eyes was especially bright. It was taking all of her self-control. He glanced at his bleeding wrist and pressed it against his side, hoping to slow the bleeding.

Max wrapped his arms around Mjoll and lifted her with relative ease. This was no simple feat as Mjoll was a big woman. As he stood, the wind began to pick up. He made sure the wind was at his back, not disturbing Mjoll before he carried her towards the tent nearest to the fire. He sat her down gently and with the help of Dexion, he covered her with numerous blankets.

Max looked at his wounded friend one last time before standing and letting her be. Dexion expertly wrapped Mjoll's forearm with bandages before he too, left her be. As he walked away, Max began to bandage his wrist and dab the scratches on his face with a clean cloth. He squinted into the wind and let out a shout

_LOK-VAH-KOOR_

He seemed satisfied as the environment began to warm slightly and the snowy wind ceased.

Aerin was waiting for him. Serana could hear the Imperial tearing into why he and Mjoll were involved in this vampire campaign in the first place.

"Mjoll was nearly turned into a vampire's thrall and yet we remain here, waiting to be slaughtered?" Aerin's hair flopped about as he carried after Max, berating him.

"We stopped here because _you_ and Dexion were tired. We expect skirmishes such as these when traveling anywhere in Skyrim. This was why Mjoll came with in the first place. To help us get the Moth Priest back to Fort Dawnguard."

Aerin didn't appear to be all that dissuaded.

"I don't know about you, but I don't generally expect vampires to ambush me when I'm between Winterhold and Riften."

Max dabbed the bloodied cloth on his wounds once more.

"Better vampires than dragons." Max said pointedly.

Aerin appeared to accept this. As he seemed to cool off a bit.

"And you trust your wolf blood has saved her from the vampire taint?"

Max appeared regretful at this.

"Had I any other choice, I would have taken it. But yes, I do trust that the wolf's blood will purge the vampire's taint."

Max glanced at Serana as if looking for confirmation.

The pureblood vampire confirmed his assertion with a shaky nod.

Max glanced back at the fire that blazed at the center of the camp, "Speaking of which, you had better gather Dexion and hide in the far tent. There should be enough herbs in there to cover your scent."

Aerin moved quickly despite how alarming Max's orders were. He wasn't taking any chances.

"Max- what did you?" she asked weakly, pressing a palm to her forehead.

Serana could see Max's eyes widen. Something was different about Mjoll.

"Serana, run!" he shouted. He began to toss his armor to the ground. Which Serana found peculiar. Given the fact that Mjoll was turning into a werewolf, she figured Max would want as much armor between him and Mjoll as possible.

Serana was too weak to move. She could still smell all of the blood around her. She was _very _hungry, having yet to feast upon blood since her awakening. Her vampire senses tingled, warning her of a werewolf's presence. She felt a hiss coming to her lips.

Max ran over to her, clad only in the clothes he wore under his armor.

"You need to go, Serana. Now!" Max urged, "New blood wolves are powerful." Serana nodded shakily. She could see the worry in his eyes. Though she wondered for whom it was intended.

She did her best to get her feet to move. At a mediocre pace for a vampire, Serana carried off into the woods. She knew that Mjoll would soon be upon her if she didn't figure out a way to hide. Serana jumped as a terrifying howl pierced the night.

Serana could hear the sound of running feet behind her. They were unnaturally fast, yet heavy. Serana knew that the werewolf would catch her soon and the only defense she had was to summon the vampire lord form, which she only used in last resorts. Even now, in a last resort situation, she didn't want to use her ability to turn. She hated it.

She thought that if she were killed, at least her father wouldn't be able to turn Skyrim into a nightmare.

Serana could hear the thundering footsteps grow even closer as she continued her desperate sprint. She could hear the growl of a wolf close behind her. Serana knew now, that she was probably a goner. She glanced over her shoulder to see her pursuer. Golden colored fur, similar to that of Mjoll's blonde hair told her that it was the newborn werewolf hot on her heels. Serana continued to pant she could hear the wolf growl and grunt with effort. Serana's instinct told her to stop running completely. Serana dug her heels into the ground, reaching down and catching herself from slipping onto her behind by grabbing hold of a branch. Serana watched as the wolf landed a good twenty feet in front of her. Mjoll had attempted to pounce her, anticipating her pace. Serana's quick thinking had outwitted the bloodlusting werewolf for the moment.

Serana began back in the direction of the camp knowing that Mjoll would be on her in an instant. Serana was startled when she saw an even bigger creature running towards her. Serana was prepared to turn into a vampire lord when the larger werewolf went past her, standing between Serana and the golden newborn wolf. This wolf was much darker in color and much bigger in physique. The larger werewolf growled at the smaller, appearing to send it a stiff warning. The other wolf, whom Serana guessed was Mjoll didn't appear to back down as she stalked even closer to Serana. The bigger wolf cut the golden one off, stepping defiantly between them yet again. It stood on its haunches and growled again. Its ears laid back and golden eyes sought to discourage the younger werewolf from Serana. If she weren't the potential dinner, Serana would be amazed at what she saw. But the fact remained that she was, in fact, the werewolf's natural enemy.

Mjoll appeared to relent to the bigger wolf and carry off into the distance with a sorrowful howl. Serana watched her go sprinting at an impressive speed. The larger werewolf turned to face Serana, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand at attention. She could feel the wolf's warm breath on her cold skin. Calm golden eyes peered out at her as the wolf came down on all fours to meet her eye level. Serana soon realized that she was in no danger in Max's presence. Serana reached up tentatively to touch Max's fur. It was softer than she imagined, and perhaps warmer than the fire at camp. A thought suddenly occurred to Serana, though she knew little of a man in werewolf state, Serana hoped that Max would at least hear her question.

"Why do you trust me so easily, Max? Why risk so much when you can take my father down by yourself?" she asked.

Max looked down at her silently, it was almost as if he was thinking, but Serana couldn't right tell.

Serana looked down slightly disappointed. He probably couldn't understand what she was saying. In her saddened state Serana knew her distrust for those who were supposed to care for her was caused by her parents. To them, she was just a pawn. She couldn't possibly understand why Max would think any different.

Serana was pulled from her thoughts by a warm, furry nudge against her shoulder. She took a staggering step back to catch her balance. She looked up at the wolf that was looking right at her. At that particular moment, Serana could do nothing but look into the wolf's eyes. It was as if he could read her mind. She could see the wolf pant lightly and whine happily, in attempt to cheer her up. Serana couldn't help but smile. Max had a way with words even as a wolf. She saw him look back to the camp as if urging her to return there. Then he let loose a magnificent howl and bolted off into the night. No doubt he had a newborn to keep and eye on.

Serana spent the next few hours staring into the fire in thought. She was thinking of her parents and their seemingly endless fights in the years after becoming vampires. It had never been a matter of choice, being a vampire. But Serana didn't exactly regret it. She too had wanted Molag Bol's blessing, and eternal life had its upsides. It was strange when Serana thought of how different werewolves were from vampires. To be a vampire was to be essentially dead. Cold, pale skin and a solitary lifestyle were the name of the game often enough. To gain friends or followers one must turn them into a thrall. To destroy a living being and turn them into an empty shell of a person that blindly follows their master. In order to survive, a vampire must leech the life from another. This was not Serana, but yet here she was. Now to be a werewolf was to be alive. The brotherhood of the Companions was unrivaled in its strength. Wolves often hunted together and shared in the spoils of the hunt. To be a wolf was to be one with nature and become the night hunter. Your heart remained beating and your skin warm and alive. Serana sighed at this thought.

She was so deep in thought that she didn't realize Mjoll was sitting next to her. She noticed the injured Nord had rallied marvelously in the few hours since her near death experience.

She looked at Serana rather shyly.

"Max tells me I owe you an apology for trying to kill you." She said rather sheepishly.

Serana turned to look at her, unsure of what to say.

"Max tells me that newborn wolves hunt everything in sight and it is difficult to control such urges. So nothing personal." Mjoll said, her accent as amusing as ever.

"Well, no harm done." Serana said, forcing a smile.

Mjoll also smiled rather weakly.

"I met Aerin outside Mzinchaleft. Max and I had been fighting a dwarven colossus. We were both badly injured. Max and I managed to escape but I was in no condition to walk. So Max took off in hopes of finding help. Being injured as he was he was a bit disoriented and headed for the Skyrim border to the east. There he was captured as a fleeing Stormcloak by accident.

As for Aerin, he was the one who found me and nursed me back to health. I've been in Riften ever since, trying to deal with the corruption there." She said shaking her head.

Serana nodded in understanding, "So how was… being a werewolf?"

Mjoll smirked, "It's a lot of power to handle, but you are only as powerful as the wolf you received blood from. I received mine from the Harbinger of the Companions, so there was a lot of power to harness." She smiled. At first I was angry, but this is a wonderful gift.

Serana smiled back.

"The Harbinger?"

Mjoll nodded, "I just learned this a few minutes ago but basically the Harbinger is our leader. Max was passed this from his Harbinger. He and Aela shared the role in each other's absence. After all, she was the one who turned Max. It's still difficult for him sometimes, every time he turns it's a reminder of her." Mjoll said sadly, she glanced off into the woods.

"Where is he?" Serana asked.

"He needed some time alone." Mjoll said her voice sympathetic.

* * *

"I remember the first time. It's always the most intense, I envy you." Aela said crouching over Max who was sprawled out on the ground. He had no idea where he was and how he got there was all a blur. He noticed that he was naked and covered himself in embarrassment. Aela didn't appear all that bothered by his lack of clothing and handed him his gear.

"Welcome to The Circle. You have earned your place among us. Now, get dressed, we don't have much time. We have to deal with the Silver Hand. Our sworn enemies, they are werewolf hunters and wish to see us slaughtered. Skjor scouted on ahead, we will meet him there."

Max began to dress though he still kept his eyes on his shield-sister. He found himself quite in awe with Aela. She was as deadly and fierce as she was beautiful and her choice of clothing… or lack thereof was quite distracting and left little to the imagination.

Max's crush on her was something he kept to himself, especially after hearing Njada and his other shield-brothers and sisters gossiping about Skjor and Aela going out hunting together despite it being strictly forbidden. Max also knew from his mother's teachings that it was inappropriate to have relations with your fellow soldiers, particularly your superiors. Max had always had a thing for the forbidden women. The ones who defied the odds and weren't afraid to do what was necessary. He found women who played the part of the damsel quite annoying. That was something he got from his father.

The raid on the Silver Hand hadn't been what he and Aela were expecting. The Silver Hand had clearly been expecting them and Skjor was nowhere to be found. After the fierce battle had concluded, they had discovered Skjor. He had been cut into pieces and his body parts, namely his head, had been mounted on a pike. That moment was hard for Max to forget, even years after. He had seen his brothers and sisters in combat savagely treated before. The thing that stuck with him was Aela's reaction. Skjor had been a well-respected member of the Companions, even though some of his choices, this one in particular, indicated his pride was something of an issue. He still was seen as a fiercely loyal and powerful member. Max could tell then for sure that there had been something more between Aela and Skjor. For after the initial rage, Aela was quiet for quite some time. In her rage for revenge, Aela and Max together had all but eradicated the Silver Hand. Aela had managed to find satisfaction in that. Max knew that from the very day he was initiated into The Circle, Aela was quite literally a part of him.

Max stared off into the distance sadly. He knew she still was even years after her death. He still missed her and loved her, but she was gone beyond his reach and there was nothing he could do but carry on. He could think of no better way to honor her memory than to silence a vampire plot to launch Skyrim in a reign of terror. Max smiled at that. She would be damn proud.

* * *

**I've been keeping up on news as far as Elder Scrolls goes and Bethesda has recently announced that it will be moving on to he next chapter of Elder Scrolls. They have indicated that the project, though it is in early stages requires their full attention. Which is a good thing to hear. I'm wondering what region we will venture to next? I still get a good chuckle out of the Khajiit homeworld, Elsweyr. I'd like to hear your thoughts about this chapter and what region you would like to see portrayed in the next Elder Scrolls.**

**One other quick thing I forgot to mention in the last chapter. For those of you who do not know her, Malukah is a real person who has performed many of the songs from Skyrim and posted them on Youtube. I for one am a fan of her work. She's quite incredible. If you're interested, look her up on youtube. Since this site isn't too keen on authors posting links in their fics, just go on to Youtube and search 'Malukah Dragonborn cover' and it should come up with the song I referenced a chapter or two ago.**


	9. Interlude: Side Quest in Riverwood

**Hello everyone! Sorry I've been away for awhile... again. I apologize. I hit writer's block for this portion big time. Eventually, I found something worthy of submission. Enjoy.**

* * *

The rest of trip back to Fort Dawnguard went without any problems, much to everyone's surprise. Spring was on its way and the snow was beginning to melt. The area surrounding Stendarr's Beacon was quite beautiful. It was there that Mjoll and Aerin departed. Max told Mjoll to seek out the twins Vilkas and Farkas at Jorrvaskr in Whiterun, for they were running the Companions at the present. She would need some guidance on her newly found ability and Max had no time to teach her unfortunately.

Max and Serana entered Fort Dawnguard, very much looking forward to cleaning up after their travels. Isran had granted Max some time to treat his wounds and rest for a bit before they were to go ahead with the Elder Scroll. There was no telling when a warm bed would be available to him again. Serana made it a point to stay around Max or Dexion as much as possible. She didn't trust Isran nor the rest of the Dawnguard. They avoided her at all cost. Most did not even acknowledge her presence

Isran was standing right at the center of the room waiting for them when Max awoke from his nap. He expected no less from the surly Dawnguard leader.

Isran's laugh sounded as though it were a condescending spat, "I'm impressed you could find a Moth Priest so quickly."

Serana quickly noticed that Isran had a way of making people feel as though they were being reprimanded when he was actually complimenting them.

"Is everything ready?" Max asked.

Isran nodded, "For the reading? Yeah. Just let the old man know when you're ready."

Max looked over a Dexion who smiled at him.

"Ah, my rescuers!" he said cheerily to Max and Serana.

Max smiled back, "Have my companions made you feel welcome?"

Dexion's smile thinned, he tousled his beard as he spoke, "It's not exactly the hospitality I'm used to, but your man Isran has seen to my needs well enough. And might I add, this is a remarkable fortress. I have colleagues back home that would love to study this place in detail." Dexion mused.

Max smiled politely at the comment but remained on topic.

"Are you prepared to read the scroll?"

"Oh, most certainly!" the old man piped, "Let's find out what secrets the scroll can tell."

Serana reached out and handed Dexion the Elder Scroll, it's golden clasps glimmering in the light that filtered through the ceiling.

Dexion held the scroll at arms length and glanced around the room at Isran, Serana, and Max's curious eyes.

"If everyone could please be quiet." Dexion requested, "I need to concentrate."

He pulled the fold down and began describing what he saw.

"I see a vision before me, an image of a great bow. I know this weapon!" Dexion exclaimed. "It is Auriel's Bow!

Max glanced at Serana who nodded to Max, indicating she too knew the bow.

"Now a voice whispers, saying 'Among the night's children, a dread lord will rise." Dexion said, his voice rather chilling.

There was no mistaking what that meant or whom it spoke of.

"In an age of strife, when dragons return to the realm of men, darkness will mingle with light and the night will be as one."

No mistaking that part either.

"The voice fades and it's words begin to… shimmer and distort." Dexion said, straining to hear whatever was being said.

"But wait, there is more here."

Max looked at Serana who was staring intently at the Moth Priest.

"The secret of the bow's power is written elsewhere. I think there is more to the prophecy recorded in other scrolls." Dexion paused for a moment, his eyes moving about the page.

"Yes… I see them now. One contains the ancient secrets of the dragons, and the other speaks of the potency of ancient blood." Dexion paused with a slight breath.

"My vision darkens," he breathed, "And I see no more." He sounded sad that his experience had ended.

"To know the complete prophecy, we must have the other two scrolls."

Dexion said, his voice growing more tired as spoke. He wobbled and almost fell to the floor. Max stepped forward and placed a steady arm on his shoulder.

"I must rest now. The reading has made me weary." Dexion said with a sigh.

Isran stepped in, he nodded towards Serana, an indication that he should talk with her.

"Come on old man, let's get you to bed." Isran said, surprisingly gently. As the Dawnguard leader lead the priest from the room, Max turned to look at Serana. Her eyes were darting about the floor in thought. She looked at him, her expression rather perturbed.

"Do you have a moment to talk?" She asked.

"What's on your mind?"

"Dexion said we needed two other Elder Scrolls. I think I know where we can start looking." Serana confessed.

"Why didn't you say something earlier?" Max observed.

"Half the people in your little crew would just soon kill me as talk to me." She said. "That doesn't exactly make me want to open up." She said, the usual sarcasm returning to her voice.

"I got a warmer welcome from my father, and that's saying something." Serana continued.

Max snorted in other wise silent laughter.

"What is it between you two?" Max inquired.

"Ever since he decided to make that prophecy his calling, we kind of drifted apart." Serana said waving an arm out to the side, the other resting on her hip.

Her usual stoic façade fell when she looked at Max again, she looked sad.

"I don't think he even sees me as his daughter anymore. I'm just… a means to an end." She said with a discontented sigh.

Max's eyes fell to his crossed arms as he let her continue. He knew that this troubled Serana deeply. It would trouble him too to know that his parents no longer cared for him.

"Anyways, we need to find my mother, Valerica. She'll definitely know where it is. And if we're lucky, she'll have it with her."

Max's eyebrows drew together in question, "I thought you didn't know where your mother went?"

Serana nodded, "The last time I saw her, she said that she'd go somewhere safe… somewhere that my father would never search. Other than that, she wouldn't tell me anything." She said with a shrug. She crossed her arms a squinted, her brow crinkling rather cutely.

"But the way she said it… "someplace he would never search." It was cryptic, yet she called attention to it."

Max nodded, "Sounds like she was being cautious."

Serana turned her face slightly, "Maybe…"

She extended a palm upward in question, "What I can't figure out is _why _she said it that way."

"Besides I can't imagine a single place that my father would avoid looking. And he's had all this time, too." Serana shrugged, "Any ideas?"

Max pursed his lips for a moment and stared down at the stone floor, "In Castle Volkihar?" he said with a slight shrug.

Serana's eyes widened, "Wait… That almost makes sense!" Serana's eyes widened at this revelation.

"There's a courtyard in the castle. I used to help her tend the garden there. All the ingredients for our potions came from there. She used to say that my father couldn't stand the place. Too…peaceful." She mused, obviously noticing how backwards it sounded. But that was her father, of that she was sure.

"Staying around the castle sounds pretty risky," Max thought aloud.

Serana nodded her agreement, "Oh, absolutely. But my mother's not a coward, Max." she chided ever so slightly, to which he nodded.

"That is… I don't think we'll actually trip over her there. But it's worth a look." Serana said with a shrug.

"Well," Max said, sighing thoughtfully, "They aren't going to let us in the front door."

Serana snorted, "True. But I know a way we can get to the courtyard without arousing suspicion."

Max smirked warily, "As long as it doesn't involve swimming."

Serana laughed silently.

"There's an unused inlet on the northern side of the island that was used by the previous owners to bring supplies into the castle. An old escape tunnel from the castle exits there. I think that's our way in."

Max thought for a moment, then nodded. "Let me gather a few things and we'll be off within the hour. He carried off at an unusually brisk pace. Serana followed him, for he had been the one to carry her things into the castle. She carefully followed him, keeping her eyes locked on him and not daring to look around the castle. Serana could not wait to leave Fort Dawnguard. She observed something that she had otherwise overlooked until today. He carried two books with him. One she presumed was his journal, for he was writing in it quite frequently in his down time, perhaps to keep things straight. Being the Dragonborn and all you had to have quite the task list Serana had to imagine. She secretly wanted to swipe it from him in hopes that at least some of it would contain his thoughts. She wanted to pry into that mysterious mind more than she should and she knew it. Serana also noticed an additional journal, it was worn and slightly smaller than Max's. He carried it right with his journal, perhaps it was a spare but Serana suspected otherwise for she never saw him write in it. He only read it from time to time, she noticed a frayed red ribbon marking a particular page. Serana cursed her curiosity.

* * *

"My mother was a Companion. And her mother. All the way back to Hrotti Blackblade. I stayed with my father in the woods until I was old enough for my Trial. We hunted everything there was to hunt…Good training. " Aela said with a smile. Max admired how genuine her smile was. It was one of those few cracks in her otherwise hard façade. Her face remained neutral as she continued, but her eyes betrayed her, they looked sad,

"Ma didn't live long enough to see me join, but I fight to honor her and all my Shield-Sisters through time." Her voice was filled with the same determination he felt, keeping the family name strong and honored.

"I know how it feels to have duties passed down to uphold," Max said knowingly. For him it had never been a choice.

Aela appeared interested though she said nothing. Her eyes asked what her voice did not.

"My father fell at the Markarth Incident and my mother was a Legionnaire of the Cyrodiilic Empire. She was burned alive by bandits when they ambushed my home. I was twelve." Max said, his voice was surprisingly calm. He glanced around at the sound of the other Circle member's snores, but most seemed to be keeping to themselves in this time of mourning. Max was surprised Aela was being so open. He had always pegged her as the solitary type.

Aela clearly hadn't been expecting that for her eyes widened, but she let the emotion pass, "I can hardly imagine being able to walk away from a life of violence after what happened to your family."

Max was surprised by her response. Aela seemed to understand his feelings on the topic better than most. Instead of saying the usual 'I'm sorry' or 'That's horrible', she had expressed her understanding for his choices.

"So Max, why the Companions?" Aela inquired.

Max smirked at this, to which Aela raised an eyebrow. She didn't realize how incredible she looked, stretched out on her bedroll in her usual barely-there attire. The way the fire glowed off her well-toned body made Max feel heat in his nether regions. It was unfair to think this way given the circumstances, but there it was.

"I wanted something better than the mercenary work I had been doing. Something with a bit more morality." Max said, "I remember my father talking about Ysgramor and the five hundred companions when I was a boy." He shrugged and looked into the fire, avoiding Aela's gaze.

The thought of asking Aela a tough question danced in the back of Max's mind. He wanted to ask about Skjor, but knew that it wasn't his place. Aela seemed to notice his thoughtful struggle.

"Is something troubling you, my friend?"

Max's head went lightly from side to side as if he was deciding how to word his response, he stopped and finally met her steel colored eyes.

"I am not sure how to ask this exactly…"

"Not sure how to ask about Skjor? I heard the rumors," Aela said rather dismissively.

Max turned his head slightly indicating she half right.

"Not so much the rumors as your motive for pursuing vengeance for our fallen shield-brother so intensely."

She thought for a moment, her eyes narrowing in thought as she looked away briefly. She didn't appear nervous, though when was she ever.

"Skjor had been a Companion for a long time. Since before my inner circle days even," she lightly bit her lip as she chose her next words. Max found the habit attractive for some reason.

"We broke Kodlak's rules, it was a thrill thing. Now that I look back on it, I can't help but regret not listening." Aela confessed. Max could see the remorse in her eyes, though he saw no sense of longing that was often present in the thought of a lost loved one.

"Our shield-brothers and sisters seemed to think that our rule bending also meant that we were involved. I'm sure you've heard the whispers."

Max nodded, allowing her to go on without interruption. He tried his best not to look like he hung on her next words.

"There was some merit to it," Aela confessed, "Our…relationship was not really very intimate. It was strictly sex, to be blunt."

Max's eyebrows raised ever so slightly, he prayed to the Divines she didn't see it, for he wanted her to confide in him more.

She stared at him for a moment, expecting a response or reaction.

"What?" she finally said, with a tad of defensiveness.

"You haven't answered my question." Max said with a smile.

Aela laughed, "I suppose you're right. I guess I wanted to clear the air about Skjor. To answer your question, my motive for revenge isn't avenging a lover, if you think of him that way." She said, referring to Skjor.

"My ire for the Silver Hand runs deep. It's in my blood I guess. We've lost a great deal of ground to them. Skjor's slaughter was the tipping point. Since that decision was left to me, I chose to push back." The fire glistened as it reflected in Aela's steel colored eyes with a terrific effect. She looked quite intimidating…and sexy.

Max mentally pushed the amorous thought aside, he sat up in an attempt to separate himself and hopefully encourage her to assume a less provocative position. She didn't seem to be persuaded in the slightest, or she was giving him some space.

"Thinking back on a month earlier, I never could have foreseen how things lead to this." Max mused as he looked up at the stars thoughtfully.

Aela sat up and looked into the fire, "I agree, though I expected things to come to a head at some point. Not the way that they did, but still. I had some idea. Hell, you were a newborn the day we discovered Skjor." Aela looked at him, but her expression was unreadable.

Max would later come to understand this expression as one of admiration and it would grow to be much less guarded.

* * *

Max stared down at Shadowmere as he trotted down the dirt path, the horse barely needed guiding at all when it came to travel, but battle was another thing entirely. He tried to expel the memory that had so often repressed. He then decided to distract his mind with the thoughts of his unique steed. Shadowmere was rather peculiar about who was allowed to harness his power. Max thought back to Serana's go at riding him, it was rather humorous, but to her credit, the girl hung on better than most men. Perhaps Shadowmere cooperated better with fellow undead.

Max glanced over at his companion, "You've been quiet." He instantly realized the irony of his statement. He had become accustomed to Serana filling the silences.

"Funny you should say that." Serana retorted mildly. What was usually a sarcastic jest sounded more like an agitated retort.

Max frowned slightly, "A little apprehensive about meeting your mother?"

Serana didn't move her gaze from its fixation on the road before her.

"It's been… hundreds of years."

Max nodded, deciding not to press further.

Serana sensed this and tried to reassure him a little. He was only trying to make conversation.

"When last I saw my mother, we parted on… difficult terms. Wounds don't heal when you're unconscious for several centuries. They're just as fresh as if I woke up the next day." Serana said sadly.

Max looked at the road for a moment then back to Serana, he wanted nothing more than to console her, but he didn't know how. There was nothing he could compare that was even remotely close to such an issue.

"Serana, you don't have to say anything. You have yet to let me down and I don't suspect you will. You're allowed to keep certain matters private, so long as they don't compromise what we're doing here." Max stopped himself from continuing. He didn't exactly want her to know that he trusted her entirely. It would be foolish for him to say so. He needed her to feel like she needed to earn his trust, at least for now.

"I owe it to you." Serana said. She paused for a moment and looked at him, her face serious, "Max, if it had been any other member of the Dawnguard that freed me from Dimhollow Crypt, I would have been killed on the spot. If it had been my father's men the sun would be gone by now and I would be a shut in thrall."

Max's striking brown eyes locked in on Serana as she spoke.

"You're the only one that's given me a chance. Nothing in my life until that day you woke me had been my choice."

Serana could feel her thoughts gushing out of her mouth uncontrollably, but yet she didn't feel that inclined to stop.

"When you refused my father's offer, you took a stand that I had never been brave enough to. If you hadn't I probably would have simply let him control me for the rest of my existence." Serana confessed, feeling herself get goose-bumps as she spoke. She realized she hadn't had any sort of response from her skin since Francois. She actually felt something inside of her, she felt a warmth amid her cold and lifeless internal structure. Serana watched Max's reaction carefully. He appeared to be bothered at her way of addressing her 'life' as an existence. Serana knew her words meant something to him. They seemed to touch his always-stoic demeanor. But in what way, she had no way of knowing.

"Everyone is allowed a choice, it was only a matter of time that you found one. You took a stand against your father whether you believe it or not. You ran away to protect Skyrim from his evil. You _are_ brave." Max said, his voice taking on that commanding tone. It made Serana feel quite…fuzzy and warm? She couldn't quite remember what that felt like, but this was the best description she could come up with. They were east of Whiterun, going off the beaten path in an attempt to save time. Gunmar had asked Max to make a detour to Riverwood to vanquish and infiltrating vampire.

Serana enjoyed this scenic route. She got to take in the scenery a lot better since she was practically immersed in it. She had always loved the springtime though it made her allergic. That was one benefit of being technically dead. The leaves were fresh and green as they danced in the cool spring wind. The songbirds were out in full force, each filling the air with their unique songs and listening for a reply as they searched for a mate… Or at least she thought that's what they were after.

She glanced over at Max who was alertly checking their surroundings. His thick scars served as war paint down the right side of his face. It made him look even tougher than he did before, if that were possible. Serana realized that was both a blessing and a curse. He had to be that way. Being as famous as Max was, you could never tell whom to trust. She had observed his uncomfortable behavior at the apothecary in Solitude when Angeline had practically proposed to Max for her niece. Serana wouldn't call it awkward, but Max seemed to lose his charismatic edge. He hadn't been kidding when he said Skyrim was his wife. Given the nation's state Max had described, Serana took him at his word that she was a demanding country.

He was so difficult to read. To guess at what he was thinking of at any given moment was pretty much an arrow in the dark. She wondered if he knew about her crush on him. She looked down at the horn of her saddle for a moment. She had a crush on him? It sounded so girlish, but alas it was just that. She had no way of knowing if the feeling was reciprocated. She doubted it with the terms on which he passed with his former lovers. Then again, Serana hadn't had much luck in that department either. Being undead put a cramp on dating. She stifled a laugh at her own expense.

_Oh Serana, you must be barking mad. _ She thought. A vampire with feelings for a werewolf… now that was worthy of a bad bard song.

She couldn't help but look at her protector fondly. He was a model Nord, albeit only half blood, one would never guess it,

As they neared Riverwood, Serana observed the spring-fed river as it flowed peacefully to the right of the road. Obviously, this was how the village got its name. Max pulled on the reins, slowing Shadowmere to a stop. Serana's roan, growing accustomed to following Shadowmere, also slowed to a stop. Max spoke when she came alongside him.

"I don't want to draw any unwanted attention with these two," he said nodding at the horses.

"Or you for that matter. So long as you keep your hood up, I think you should be fine, but I think its best that you let me handle this vampire myself." He looked at her expectantly, genuinely wanting her approval.

Serana nodded, "I understand." She watched as her affirmation settled his unease. Perhaps there was something she was missing though.

"I'll need to ask a favor though. I need you to lead these two into Riverwood and tie them up. Just keep a low profile if you can."

As much as Serana hated sitting by while Max did everything, she saw the logic in what he said, like most things he did that she didn't agree with.

Eventually she nodded. As Max dismounted he handed her the reins.

"Give me a head start," he said with a slight wave. He began off in the direction of Riverwood. His instincts told him that anyone with a secret that was hoping to blend in would most likely frequent the inn. So the Sleeping Giant Inn it was.

As he made his way into Riverwood, Max noticed the quiet town was quite busy at the moment. Though the traffic included chickens and hounds, there were still a quite a few people out and about. He tried his best to keep a low profile without completely masking himself, though it was tempting to put Rahgot on, he knew it would add more worried stares than his face would.

He smirked at that, unconsciously touched the scabs on his face. The claw marks were unmistakable, but such things were expected of him.

He made his way up the stairs to the inn and entered quietly. He saw the inn was relatively lively, but he decided it better to assess the situation more clearly.

He looked around the room. He noticed an old ally, Delphine. When she noticed him he gave a her the look that said he was here on business. A look she never questioned. Max made sure not to linger on Delphine too long so as not to appear suspicious. He made sure to check out the crowd. He saw a few familiar locals around, but one man instantly stood out to him. A man with long blonde hair that was tied back, away from his face sat at the other side of the room. He wore a faded tan tunic and fur boots. It stood out as an unusual, mismatched outfit. Max didn't need these clues to know that this man was a vampire. His enhanced senses told him everything he needed to know. The scent of a vampire was like pepper shaken directly in the nose. It nearly made his eyes water. He could see the slight glow in the vampire's eyes. He had fed recently. Max watched as two locals got into it. The two began shoving, eventually it lead to punches being thrown. This was exactly the distraction Max needed. He checked his poisoned dagger, glancing down at it discreetly, though he expected the vampire was on to him. The scent worked both ways.

Max stood and began to make his way over to the man he could see the vampire was staring right at him. Max cast look over at Delphine. The woman gave him her approval in secret as she wiped the bar with a certain pattern. She didn't even bother to break up the fight, as the men were too drunk to do any real damage. Delphine waited for Max to move closer. Max made quicker steps towards the man. The vampire stood and began to move forward with a hiss. All the while the commotion was all but ignored Delphine began to yell at the fighting patrons, she moved to restrain one while out of the corner of her eye she observed Max hoisting the unfamiliar off his feet by his throat and carrying him into the next room with a thrust of his knife. She just hoped he didn't get blood on the carpet.

* * *

Serana made her way into the town of Riverwood, making sure she took in the beautiful landscape around her. Riverwood sat at the very base of a steep collection of mountains. She found the village quaint and rustic nestled in the mountains as it was. This was a place she would prefer to live in as opposed to Castle Volkihar where most of her 'life' was spent. She lead her horse into the cute village, she smiled down at the clucking chickens that pecked at the seed in the dirt road. A hound barked at her as she rode past, but no one seemed to pay any mind. Serana could hear the squeals of a saw cutting wood. Glancing to her right she could see men feeding logs through the vertical blade and slide in halves down the chute. It was surprisingly relaxing to watch as well as smell the wood even from a distance. Serana decided to bypass the inn and tie up the horses at the post outside of a trader's. She tied up the horses and began to take in the village. Along with the saw she could hear the telltale clang of a blacksmith at work. Just down the way Serana spotted the glow of the smithy's fire. Now, this place was as pleasant as she had seen of 4th era Skyrim. Serana decided to make her way over to the river, it was more secluded and would allow her to avoid attracting unwanted attention.

When she reached the riverbank, she scanned the area, hoping that no one had noticed her. Unfortunately she was not so lucky. She could feel eyes on her as she kneeled down and cupped a handful of water, then let it trickle through her fingers. It was cool and relaxing, and if need be, she would use it as a momentary distraction.

* * *

Max had dispatched the vampire quicker than he had anticipated, his lack of arms and complacency lead to his doom. Max had swept up the ash and was having a quick chat with her. Max learned that Delphine had decided to return to the inn for a bit. She said had missed the people of Riverwood and was taking a vacation. She too had been suspicious of the newcomer. When Max had told her of the vampire, she was more intrigued than surprised. She then joked that she needed to start keeping garlic and silver weapons handy. That was the best summary Max could suffice with such important things looming in his conscious. He had little time to reflect on their conversation. Max exited the inn and looked around. He could see the horses hitched, but Serana was nowhere to be seen.

Camilla Valerius had spotted him and made her way towards him, no doubt wanting to speak with him. Max cursed the Night Mother _and_ the Divines for so many obnoxious suitors.

Camilla's pleasant manner was enough to reassure him that she was only looking to catch up. He hoped anyway.

"Hello Maximus, it's been quite some time," Camilla greeted.

"It has. How have things been in Riverwood recently?" Max asked, more out of courtesy than interest.

"More prosperous than during the war, that's for sure." She said.

"So how goes your suitor situation?" Max said with a smirk.

"No better than last you were here," she said with a shake of her head. She smiled slightly and laughed, "Not much selection in Riverwood. Or quality candidates for that matter." She said with an alluring gaze in Max's direction.

Max laughed rather awkwardly at that. The whole time the conversation was taking place, he was searching for Serana. He needed to get out of here quickly.

"You know Max," Camilla said, her face getting serious and maybe even a little intimate.

Max tried his best not to look uncomfortable. He glanced away and finally as if it were a godsend, he spotted Serana.

"Camilla," he interrupted her, "I really need to be getting on my way." He instantly noticed her crestfallen expression and began to finesse an excuse that would satisfy her I apologize, but it looks as though my friend over there," he pointed to Serana, "Is in a bit of a predicament with that bard that chases you."

Camilla looked over to see Sven attempting to serenade Max's female friend. She chuckled at the sight.

"At least its not me for a change," she said with a giggle, Max joined in.

"Tell you what. If you deal with Sven I can help you with your 'lack of quality candidates' problem." Max tried.

Camilla laughed, "Alright, you've got yourself a deal."

Max handed her some gold.

"Go to Whiterun and look for the carriage driver. His name is Bjorlam. Tell him the _Dovahkiin _is calling in a favor. He'll take you to Riften free of charge. The Temple of Mara has plenty of people inquiring there about potential spouses. Use this to donate to the church. They're much more likely to help you when their palms are greased."

Camilla smiled, "Thank you, Dragonborn. Any woman that receives your affections is very lucky."

Max awkwardly shifted his gaze away from Camilla and thanked her.

"If you ask Sven nicely, I bet he'll escort you to Whiterun." Max said rather jokingly. Camilla laughed at that.

She followed after him as they went to help his 'friend'.

* * *

Serana was beyond flustered. One minute she was watching the salmon jump in the river and then next, some blonde and oddly feminine bard was trying to sweet talk her. She couldn't decide what was worse, his pick up lines or his singing. She decided he wasn't a bad singer, but his high-pitched voice was better suited for a woman. She cursed the Daedra for toying with her like this. They enjoyed such things way too much. Serana offered the bard and awkward smile and then avoided making eye contact with him. As she looked she could see Max and some woman from the village heading towards them. Max was leading their horses.

Serana looked at the bard finally, "Look, uh…"

"Sven."

"Sven. I am here on business and my friend over there," she pointed to Max. The bard followed her finger, when his eyes laid upon the person in which she intended they widened in fear.

"My friend over there looks like he's ready to leave. He does _not_ like to be held up. Do you understand?"

Sven nodded but he didn't appear too fazed, "It looks like your man there has found himself another woman. _My_ woman. Camilla."

Serana narrowed her eyes at him, "You're trying to make her jealous by talking to me?"

Sven's bravado seemed to diminish then, "Well, I guess I don't know. You are quite attractive yourself… and you smell nice"

Serana shook her head in disbelief. It was all she could do to stop from smacking her own forehead, "Thanks, I guess… good luck with that Camilla." She said, her tone implying he would need it.

Sven, in one last ditch effort, he reached out and caressed Serana's skin, they both gasped at the contact of skin for different reasons. Serana out of genuine shock and Sven at her frigid skin.

Serana swatted his hand angrily. Before she could say anything a shout pierced the air and Max somehow traversed the remainder of the distance between them. He did not look happy, clearly aware at what Sven may have discovered.

"Are you bothering her?" Max said, his voice hissed with anger.

"Her skin… It's… cold," Sven said, his voice almost horrified.

"I don't _care_ how it felt! Is this how you treat a woman you find alone?" Max said, his eyes alight with outrage. Serana couldn't tell if he was actually that riled up about it or if he was merely acting as though Serana were something of a fling of his.

"No… I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry." Sven said.

Max appeared to relent silently. He turned to the woman that was following him. She was quite pretty, though she looked quite worried about he altercation before her.

"I think it'd be better if you asked someone else, Camilla." He said to the woman, rather cryptically.

Camilla nodded, appearing to know what he meant.

"Safe travels, friend." She turned without saying another word. Sven chased after her, but she paid him no mind.

Serana climbed atop her horse and followed Max and Shadowmere from Riverwood.

"What was that all about?" Serana asked after awhile.

"What do you mean?"

"That woman. Who was she?" Serana asked innocently.

Max could sense a bit of jealousy in her tone. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Part of him found it endearing.

"I met her a long time ago. She's an old acquaintance. Sven and another Riverwood bachelor have been after her for years, but she wants out of there. So I helped her out. Sent her to Riften." Max explained.

"Why Riften?"

"The Temple of Mara." Max answered.

"Is Mara a Divine?" Serana inquired.

Max realized she didn't know who the Divines were.

"Yes, of love and matrimony. Most go to her temple to be wed." Max said.

"Oh. Were you?" Serana asked.

"Yes." Max said quietly. He lifted the front of a necklace from within his armor and held a wedding band that hung around the chain. There were two other strange tokens hanging from it as well.

Serana decided now was the time to ask.

"You mentioned your parents were in a place called 'Sovngarde' is that like the afterlife for those who believe in the Divines?"

Max looked at her, his expression rather pained, Serana instantly regretted asking.

"Yes. I have been there, it's a Nord's paradise."

Serana looked at him, very confused, "You've _been _there?"

"Yes, to slay Alduin's soul, I had to ride a dragon to Sovngarde and slay him."

Serana's brow rose, "Now that's a story."

Max laughed lightly, "Yes. I saw my parents. It was nice while it lasted."

Serana couldn't help but notice Aela was not mentioned.

"What about your wife?"

Max moved the wedding band on his necklace in his hands as he spoke.

"Aela was a Companion through and through. A hunter. The gift was everything to her. Every werewolf when they die is sent to Hircine's hunting grounds where they hunt her enemies forever. It was what she wanted." Max's eyes softened for a moment as he thought silently.

Serana nodded, "I am familiar with Hircine. Her realm is a hunter's paradise. Aela is thoroughly enjoying it, I'm sure." Serana said reassuringly. She didn't realize how much Aela's afterlife troubled Max until she saw how much he appreciated her words.

"Thank you. That's good to know." Max said appreciatively.

"What happens to vampires when they…die?" Max asked.

"Well, being given my 'gift' from Molag Bol. I am the most powerful kind of vampire there is. We're called the Daughters of Coldharbour. We are very few, especially now. My mother and I are the only ones that I know of. Anyways, we are supposed to be too powerful to kill, so really I don't think there's an afterlife."

Max appeared interested, "I've spoke with Molag Bol before. He was…interesting. But I've never heard of the Daughters of Coldharbour before."

"It was supposed to be and honor to be selected…but few survive the process and it's…horrific." Serana said, she looked down and took a deep breath.

"When we wake up, we're blooded vampires." Serana said with a morbid ta-da.

Max remained silent, letting her be. She clearly was traumatized by this ritual, in some way or another, it was not his business to pry.

"I never pegged you as a Daedra worshipper." Serana said, changing the subject.

"I'm not really a Daedra worshipper to be honest." Max said, "I just hear what they have to say. They reward me quite handsomely, but nothing beyond a weapon or a boon of some sort."

Serana was intrigued, "You are quite lucky to be selected by the Daedra for a task. Why do I get the feeling you aren't as thrilled about Hircine's realm as your wife?"

Max's expression darkened.

"Well, let's say I've dabbled in just about every religion, but…" he paused and thought for a moment.

"Perhaps I'll explain another time. Forgive me, but it's a difficult subject." Max said apologetically.

Serana nodded, "That's fine, Max. You don't have to go any further."

"No, I think it'll be good to talk about…when I'm ready that is." He said reassuringly.

Serana nodded again, "Until then."

Max smiled at her briefly and turned his attention to the road.

It became increasingly clear to Serana that Max had many things haunting him. The more time they spent together, the more she was beginning to understand what made the most powerful Nord in all of Skyrim the man he was. He was beginning to trust her. This excited her. Despite the odds that were against them, Serana knew somehow Max would find a way to foil her father's wretched plans. They would stop him.

* * *

**That chapter was longer than I thought it was. Those of you that have been waiting for progress in the promised romance... I've got the ball rolling. After doing some research I have some really good ideas for the following chapters. I know you guys liked the backgrounds I've done in the past, so as we go further in the fic we will learn more about Max and Serana. As you've noticed, Aela gets her due diligence in here as well. I didn't just want to drop her at the very beginning when there was so much potential to hash out this Aela ghost that's following our besieged Maximus. These little side notes are to provide a glimpse into their relationship and what made Aela's death so devastating to Max. I hope you like them! Anyways, I will do my best to get a new chapter up as soon as possible. I'm not one to beg for reviews, but I tend to work faster when I hear from you guys. It also helps me cater to your preferences. I have learned a lot from reviews and just writing more. Until next time!**


	10. Dovakiin Don't Pout

**A/N:**

**Since I forgot to respond to reviews last chapter, I will do both 8 & 9 here.**

**Madgormley (x2!): Thank you! More is on the way. (and below)**

**Zero121 (x2!): Sorry to keep you waiting! Although, I'm not allowed to officially discuss it****…*****in hushed tone* She may or may not be tearing shit up in the future. So sorry for the wait! I know you guys have been waiting for those two to stop dragging their feet. They're just so damn stubborn. How do they get anything done?**

**Dane293584: I enjoy writing the flashbacks, so it's good to hear they're well received. As for Valenwood, that would be awesome. I bet the environment would be beautiful. Bethesda sure made a tundra location (Skyrim) look beautiful, there's no doubt a wooded area would be superb! The updates will be coming!**

**Guest: Glad you like my story! I'm flattered! Don't you just hate that when you are nice to your companions and give them nice weapons, only to regret it later? Now I only use them as pack mules****…**** and cannon fodder****…****Heh. Now that I think about what you're saying about the Summerset Isles, it makes total sense. I don't know about you, but fighting the Empire vs. Dominion war sounds like loads of fun!**

**Dalton Wolfe: I'm flattered. And also, I appreciate the kind nudge to continue churning out quality chapters. This one was especially challenging since it is VERY important. *evil grin**

**So here we are everybody! Back to the main questline! Oh and since people seem to like the flashbacks and backstories, I've done considerable research on the Elder Scrolls Wiki and have found some juicy details that I will merge in. (Some of them are below!)**

* * *

"Some would call it bad luck, but I'm the type who believe that things happen for a reason. Of the members in the circle, you're the most open minded by far. Kodlak saw that in you. He believed in you, even after he found out about our skirmishes with the Silver Hand. His belief was well placed.," Aela said, nodding in the direction of Wuuthrad.

Max's expression remained neutral. "That didn't win me any friends. But I don't exactly care about that. "

Aela exhaled in laughter, "That makes two of us."

Max smiled at her for a moment, but he didn't let his gaze linger too long. His expression sobered, "When I was away and the Silver Hand attacked, I was out to find and kill Glenmoril Witches. He wished to be cured, to go to Sovngarde."

Aela nodded, "Kodlak spoke of this to the Circle some time before you joined us. I'm sure if you ask them when they awake, they will say the same. Not everyone took it well. Vilkas was especially troubled."

Max nodded, "I'm not surprised." Giving a nod to the snoring, softer hearted twin.

Aela nodded, "Kodlak chose you for a reason. Vilkas is too soft. When he sent you to Glenmoril, he made his choice." Aela said, an undertone of jealousy apparent in her voice, though to her credit she hid it well.

"I'm at a loss. I have no idea what I'm going to do." Max confessed, hunching over and staring into the fire. He pulled at the whiskers on his beard anxiously.

"That's understandable. He had no opportunity to teach you. I read his journal." Aela said, holding the Kodlak's journal in her left hand and handing it to him.

Max looked at her, rather puzzled.

"Where did you get that?"

"You need to keep a closer eye on your pack." Aela said, though it was hard to tell if she was teasing or chastising him. It always was with her. Before Max could respond Aela continued.

"At first, his words were…difficult to swallow, though not inaccurate. The way he speaks of you, it is like you are his favorite son." She looked at him with a surprisingly soft expression, "He was like a father to you, wasn't he?"

Max nodded, the raw feeling of Kodlak's death still ever present in his eyes. They were all close to Kodlak, even Aela the most solitary of the bunch. He was surprised she knew of Kodlak's belief in him before reading his journal. He did not know, but it confirmed his guess that Aela was more privy to others than she lead on. She cared more than she seemed to.

* * *

Max lay asleep in the rented room. They were in Falkreath at the Dead Man's Drink for the night. Though Max needed very little sleep to function normally, he was still a living, breathing human and needed his rest every now and again. Serana knew it wasn't wise to venture outside of their room so she decided to do some snooping. She hadn't forgotten those two books Max carried around. She decided to first go through Max's journal. While many of the stories within its pages were fascinating, she was looking for one specific date in particular. She knew the date was somewhere around a few weeks and seven years ago. As she flipped through the journal she couldn't help but think that this would most likely one day be a widely known book. Who wouldn't pay to read about the many adventures of the greatest hero in Skyrim's recent memory?

After some flipping, Serana found a particularly worn page, as if it had been looked at numerous times. On the date of, all that was written was, "The light has gone out of my life." It was followed by dozens of blank pages until they reached a more recent date. When finally his journal continued it did not speak of what happened with Aela. Serana realized how much this had affected him. She wondered what he had done in the years before the Dawnguard. Perhaps this was what he was referring to when he spoke of a crisis of faith. Having to experience as much loss as Max had in his life, it was no wonder he questioned his gods.

* * *

As Max slept he no longer dreamed. He was in the phase of sleep where the Night Mother spoke to him. While she was something of a maternal figure to Max, she prevented him from sleeping soundly. She wasn't the sole reason for this however. His dreams of Hircine's Hunt were the reason he dreamed so frequently of Aela. It was the only way he could still be with her. Recently, this was why he avoided sleeping if he could. It prevented him from facing his demons.

"_Have you been avoiding me, child?"_

"_Not like I once was, Mother. I have been busy lately."_

_Max could feel the Night Mother's icy smile._

"_Yes, I have noticed many wretched crossing the divide. You seek Harkon, a wretch much overdue to my realm."_

_The Night Mother sensed reticence in her Listener._

"_You fear for the fate of his daughter."_

_Max affirmed this with his thoughts. The Night Mother was silent for a time._

"_She is a Daughter of Coldharbor, one of very few left. Few survive the initiation process. She has endured much. She is strong."_

"_She refuses to speak of the process, though with good reason, I assume. I worry that her mother is no longer and her father will succeed. No good can come from vampire rule." Max said._

"_You are correct about that, she will share her story with you when she is ready. As for your companion's mother, she lives. Though she is not easily accessed. Look to your companion for the answer."_

_Max allowed her to continue._

"_I must ask why you refused Harkon's offer of alliance. The Dark Brotherhood would have done well to see his prophecy through."_

_Max knew this was coming, he honestly wondered sometimes why the Night Mother chose him as the Listener. Cicero was a mind sick enough to carry out her will._

"_I am disappointed that you question my choice, Listener. I chose you because you are careful__…__cautious. You see all the angles of a plot before you strike. Cicero was mad to fault, he would see the Brotherhood to its destruction."_

_Max frowned, "I did not see Astrid selling me out coming."_

_The Night Mother did not budge in the least, "That is what I am for__…__ To see the unpredictable. I am a necessary evil, Maximus. Though I know you desire Sovngarde I see a different fate for you, but it all hinges on your decisions that are to come."_

_Max wasn't sure what she meant, but what the Night Mother saw did not sound good to him, but life wasn't fair. He knew that. The least he could do was spare Skyrim a terrible fate._

"_Now my child, I ask nothing of you this day. You have served me well. The Brotherhood cannot continue until the vampire threat is quelled. Do not hesitate to call on your brothers and sisters for assistance should they be needed. Be mindful of your feelings. Should you become to attached, your judgment shall falter." The Night Mother wrapped Max in her chilly embrace that he had come to find soothing in a way. It was the same embrace that had saved him from the massacre of the original Brotherhood. Astrid's betrayal still didn't make sense to him. She had only succeeded in strengthening Max's trust in the Night Mother. She spoke her usual final words to him._

"_Go forth, my child, and do what must be done. Until we meet again, my Listener."_

"_Until we meet again, Sweet Mother."_

* * *

Serana had continued snooping through Max's things. This time she had found the old book he always carried around. She found him reading from it numerous times, but never wrote in it. This indicated it was either a book or someone else's journal. Serana read the name written inside the cover.

_Kodlak Whitemane_

_Harbinger of the Companions_

_In my dream, I see the line of Harbingers start with Ysgramor. Each of them ascends to Sovngarde, until we come to Terrfyg, who first turned us to the ways of the beast. He tries to enter Sovngarde, but before he can even approach Tsun, he is set upon by a great wolf, who pulls him into the Hunting Grounds, where Hircine laughs with welcoming arms._

_Terrfyg seems regretful, but also eager to join Hircine after a lifetime of service as a beast._

_Then I see every next Harbinger turn away from Sovngarde and enter the Hunting Grounds of their own accord. Until it comes to me, and I see great Tsun on the misty horizon, beckoning me. It appears I have a choice. And then, at my side, a stranger I had not seen before. As I look into his eyes, we turn to see the same wolf who dragged away Terrfyg, and he and I draw weapons together._

_I realize this is only a dream, but a strong enough dream to inspire a man like me to take to writing, so it must be of some import._

_I've spoken of my thoughts to the Circle, with holding the part about the stranger lest Skjor worry I will no longer seek his counsel, and I was not surprised to see them torn by it. Skjor and Aela are strong in the ways of the beast, and even seemed to suggest that the Hunting Grounds would be their choice of afterlife, if it were truly a choice. Vilkas seemed most troubled. The boy is as fierce as a sabre cat in battle, but his heart's fire burns too brightly at times. He felt deceived, and I don't blame him. Farkas didn't know what to think, but I believe he will come around with me and his brother eventually. He usually does. I don't know what to do about Skjor and Aela. I know they respect the Companions, and me, but they take to the blood more deeply than the rest of us._

_Fortune smiles upon us yesterday, Vilkas was telling me how difficult it had been for him to give up his transformations. Until we can pursue a true cure, the twins and I have chosen not to give in to the beastblood. For me, it's provided a clearer head, but Vilkas seems to be suffering a bit for it. Farkas seems completely untroubled. That boy continues to amaze with his fortitude._

_While Vilkas was confiding, through the shadows of Jorrvaskr, I saw a newcomer approach. He wished to join our numbers. It was the stranger from my dream, the one who would stand with me against the beast. Vilkas began speaking obliquely, not wishing to air our problems in front of our guest, and I had to be doubly cautious to not reveal anything of our secrets to the newcomer while also not revealing the details of my dream to Vilkas. I don't know how the politicians deal with these sorts of machinations daily._

_In any case, I've sent Vilkas to test the newcomer. We'll see if he is truly the great warrior I dreamt of._

_This newcomer, it seems, is made of decent stock. He calls himself Maximus and has already impressed some of the Circle with his mettle. I still keep my own counsel on his place in my dream, for now. Let us see what kind of destiny he is carving before hitching to him._

_In the meanwhile, I look for ways of cleansing my blood. The writings and legends on the subject are sparse and contradictory. I don't wish to engage any wizadry on this matter, but I fear they may be the only ones who best know how to navigate these worlds of knowledge._

_It's apparent to me now that Terrfyg's choice to turn us was indeed a mistake. Magics and their like are not in keeping with the spirit of the Companions. We face our problems directly, without the need of such trickery. I can only hope to guide us back to the true path of Ysgramor before the rot takes me._

_Maximus continues to impress. I don't know where he will stand on the question of the blood, but the question has not been presented yet. He does know that we carry the beastblood, and appears curious about it. Soon enough, I can explain our troubles, and hopefully see what role he will play._

_I'm amazed that Aela thinks she can keep a secret among this drunken rabble. Especially with the loss of Skjor (my heart aches), emotions are fraying, and the walls of discretion are the first to fall._

_Apparently she and Maximus are waging their own separate war against the Silver Hand, in retaliation for Skjor's death. Their hearts are noble, but the course of vengeance is running hot, and I fear the counterstroke that may come if they do not rein in their fury._

_Maximus shows valor, though even in this more underhanded time. We have not had cause to speak, much and that is something I deeply regret. I have high hopes for his destiny, as I realized that his appearance in my dream may indeed mark him as the Harbinger to succeed me._

_I have received few dreams over the course of my life, but when they come, I have learned to trust them. I have also learned to trust the instincts of my heart, which tells me that Maximus can carry the Companions legacy as truly as any residing in Jorrvaskr, especially with the loss of Skjor. Aela is too solitary, Vilkas too fiery, and Farkas too kind-hearted. Only Maximus stands as a true warrior who can keep a still mind amidst these burning hearts._

_I will not speak to him of any of this, though. It is too much to burden another with. My hope is that he and I can keep counsel over the coming years, that I can impart the wisdom of the Harbingers. All things in time. Firstly, I will seek his assistance in the matter of the witches of Glenmoril. It would appear that our path to the cure is not without some poetic justice for the tricksters who first cursed us._

Serana was surprised, Kodlak sounded like a wise man. She could see the things Max had learned from him in his demeanor. Even when Max and Aela had sought retribution for Skjor's death, Kodlak had not been angry. Like a patient father, he offered them a chance to redeem themselves. Serana could see by the way Kodlak spoke of Max that he cared for the Dragonborn very much, and was very much responsible for shaping Max to be the unrivaled warrior he was today. Though he never ceased to admire the raw talent Maximus exhibited from the very first day. Serana quietly returned the book to its place in his pack when she saw Max stir in his sleep.

She could hear him mumble something quietly though she couldn't make it out.

Finally, she could understand what he was saying. It was as if he were concluding a conversation.

"Until we meet again, Sweet Mother."

Serana's eyes widened at how eerie his voice sounded. She could feel a chill come over her as a cold draft passed through the room. Whatever just happened was no coincidence. Serana now recognized the name from the Black Sacrament. It was to summon the Night Mother. She was supposed to call one of her assassin children to the location of the ritual. He was a member of the Dark Brotherhood.

To say Serana was surprised was a bit of an understatement. She would never have guessed Max had turned to the praise of Sithis and his wife, but then again she was Daedra worshipper, who was she to judge. She recalled hearing that the Night Mother was believed to be an incarnation of the Daedric Prince, Mephala.

* * *

The ride the following morning was an uncomfortable one. Serana was quiet most of the ride. When she did make eye contact with Max, she looked distant, if not a little troubled.

They were nearing their destination, and Max decided it best not to allow the rift to remain. If they were to succeed, they would need to trust one another.

"Is something the matter?" Max carefully asked.

Serana briefly made eye contact, but her eyes returned to the road before them.

"I, uh, read that old journal of yours…" she said, her voice slightly guilty.

Max wasn't as upset as he thought he'd be. He had noticed her eyeing his journal for some time. He supposed it was only a matter of time.

"I shouldn't have, but I wanted to know…"

"About Aela. Sorry to disappoint you, but I can't even talk to myself about it. Obviously you noticed." Max's voice was low and angry.

"I'm sorry…" Serana said sadly.

"Well, since you're so damned curious… That night, seven years ago. Something within me died, very much like the time when Kodlak died. Since you probably read his journal as well." Max said irritably.

Serana's head sank slightly, but did not speak as Max continued.

"But this night was different. After everything I sacrificed for the Companions. All of the years I spent restoring it's glory. I finally had a chance at a new life. I wanted Aela and I to both follow Kodlak's lead and cure ourselves. But Aela wouldn't have it."

Serana couldn't help but ask, "Why did you want her cured so badly?"

Max's eyes glassed over immediately as he spoke, "Because it wasn't just her I was worried about… Aela was with child. Any chance I had of a normal life, and a family… died with them. I feared the child would not exist in the afterlife, and if it did, it would be in Hircine's realm."

Serana's jaw dropped as low as humanly possibly. Tears filled her eyes as she clasped her hand over her mouth.

"Max…I am _so_ sorry…I…"

"You didn't know. No one does." Max said, his voice tense, but reassuring.

"Why did you join the Dark Brotherhood then?" Serana asked.

Max looked down for a moment, collecting himself, "I suppose that's fair. You heard me talk in my sleep did you not?"

Serana nodded to which Max continued.

"I was in a dark place. I needed to kill to feel better. It was the only thing I was good at. Then, the Night Mother spoke to me. She saved me from our betrayal. The Night Mother doesn't speak to just anyone. She chose me as her Listener. I was the one she used to contact the rest of her children. Essentially, I was their leader. The Night Mother has been good to me. She has done much to alleviate my fears of Aela and our child. They rest peacefully, though I'm not sure if I will ever see them."

Serana gave him a look of understanding, "Thank you for telling me that. I'm sorry I snooped through your things."

"It's alright," Max said casually.

Serana looked down at the horn of her saddle for a moment.

"I, too was once in love." she started. This grabbed Max's attention.

"His name was Francois. He was part Altmer part Nord."

Max nodded, "Ah, a Breton?"

Serana looked confused, "Is that what they're called these days? Everyone called him a 'Manmer' and called him an insult to both the elves and the humans."

"Yes," Max said, "Today there is an entire breed of 'Manmer', they're called the Breton. Very powerful mages at that. It's much less of a blemish than it used to be."

Serana looked comforted by that, "Good," she paused and smiled in thought for a moment, "Anyways, he was aspiring to be a mage, but Winterhold wouldn't allow such an 'abomination' to train with them. So one day, when we crossed paths. I started to teach him magic that I knew."

Serana sighed, "As you might expect, my father didn't approve. He feared Francois would give me away."

Max snorted in annoyance at that.

"I continued to see him secretly." Serana said, deciding it better to keep out the sappy details.

"Until one day my mother's warnings were beginning to come true. My father had discovered that damned prophecy and was looking for me. That was the day I was left in Dimhollow Crypt." Serana explained.

Max seemed to catch on.

"The reason I asked you if you saw a skeleton when you found me, is I was not placed in that tomb without cost." Serana said sadly.

"Francois gave his life force to seal me in there safely. Only when you freed me was his soul free. I suspect, that part of him is in you as well."

Max looked at his injured hand carefully.

"You are very brave. Thank you for telling me," Max said appreciatively.

Serana smiled weakly and nodded.

She was thankful when the mists of the northern sea finally greeted her, it made the awkward silence that persisted less apparent. It had been an hour or two since she or Max had uttered a word. So Serana was glad to direct them towards the secret entrance. As they approached the edge of land, Max began to grow rather uneasy.

"We don't have to swim, do we?" he said dreadfully.

Serana smirked she was glad for his change of temperment, "I'm afraid we do. It's only fair, I had to go into a castle filled with vampire hunters _twice._ The Dragonborn isn't afraid of a little water, is he?" she teased.

Max gave her a mildly annoyed look.

Serana looked surprised, "Are you pouting?"

Max glared at her, "No. _Dovahkiin_ don't pout, they brood."

Serana rolled her eyes and laughed, "Ah, I see. Big difference."

A ghost of a smile traced Max's lips, but he kept the broody look going.

"Yes, very big."

They both paused for a moment, laughing silently to themselves. Then they looked at one another and laughed aloud.

Max turned his head to one side, relenting, "Alright," he said dismounting Shadowmere, "Let's get going before one of those bloody death hounds find us."

Max and Serana led their horses to a wooded area. Serana melted some of the frost from the grass so they had something to eat. Max began to unhook his armor and clipped the various pieces onto his pack. He then wrapped everything in animal skin to keep its contents dry. Serana could have done the same, but being wet and cold didn't really bother her too much. Its not like it would kill her.

Max's scarred body was impressive in its bare glory. It was well-maintained, Serana admitted with glee. His powerful v-shaped torso was covered with thick bands of muscle. Numerous scars dotted his body, peering out from the light dusting of chest hair. They were red, pink, white, and every shade in between, depending on how old or severe the wound had been. Only a loincloth covered his manhood. Serana turned away to hide her blush.

The most recent scar was on his face. It was a reddish color that only added to his intimidating demeanor. It was safe to say, Max was a Nord's Nord, or perhaps more accurately, a human battering ram. If she had to guess, Serana would have chalked up Max's dislike of swimming to the fact that muscle doesn't float, especially a man of his size.

He gingerly moved into the water and grimaced as the cold penetrated his skin. Serana giggled a bit. It was ironic seeing such a tough man yelp at something a trivial as cold water.

"What?" Max demanded, "I'm a Nord-Imperial, not a damned Argonian!"

Serana chuckled and joined him in the water.

She was surprised he was able to carry all of his equipment on his back and not drown, but they made it.

A few roaming skeletons were waiting for them at the docks, but Serana dispatched them quickly and reanimated them.

"Nicely done." Max said, quickly putting his armor back on.

Serana only nodded, continuing to carefully towards the undercroft, knowing very well what might be waiting there. She was amazed at how much different this place looked. Then again, she supposed eras passing would do that to a place.

She was surprised when she felt a cold presence pass through her, was it the Night Mother?

When Serana saw who stood before her, it was Max in a ghostly form.

"Feim-zii-gron." Max explained.

Serana nodded, "Fade, spirit, bind," she mused to herself.

She watched as Max moved about the room disarming traps and exploring pathways.

A guttural growl echoed through the halls and a vampire leapt from another room right at them. The vampire passed through Max and landed just in front of Serana.

Serana moved quickly to one side, dodging a lunging attack. She continued to dance around the vampire's attacks until she saw an opening. She did not hesitate to send her blade for the inner part of the vampire's arm. Her hit landed, but the vampire managed to counter and left a nasty cut in Serana's forearm. She hissed at the vampire and bore her fangs. She threw a draining spell in his direction and sucked in the magicka to her own reserves. She felt the tingle of the Blade of Woe as it healed the gash on her arm. She decided to seize the opportunity and throw an ice spike at the vampire and then flipped her blade into an icepick grip.

The ice pick hit and knocked the vampire back, breaking his defense. Serana capitalized by sinking her blade into the vampire's chest. Unlike living beings, the vampire did not bleed, only dissipating into ash. Serana was slightly relieved at this. She didn't particularly like gore, which she realized was quite ironic, given her condition. Even in his ghostly form Serana could see the impressed look on Max's transparent face. They continued to venture onward, but luckily Max's Become Ethereal shout faded and he returned to solid form just before the gargoyles began appearing. The two continued to creep through the cobweb filled hallways and dispatched numerous gargoyles and skeleton guardians.

Finally they came upon a barren courtyard. It was quite run down. Max sat his greatsword on his shoulder and took a moment to catch his breath. Max noticed how disheartened Serana looked at this discovery.

"Oh no…" she said quietly.

"What happened to this place?" she said shocked.

"Everything's been torn down…the whole place looks…well, dead. It's like we're the first to set foot here in centuries." She said her voice bouncing from the walls of the courtyard. It was ancient.

Serana stared silently, unable to say or do anything. This room really set into perspective how long she had been gone. This place had been her sanctuary from her father. It also had helped to her on the days in which her hunger was too much to handle.

"What is this place?" Max asked.

"This was my mother's garden…It…do you know how beautiful something can be when its tended by a master for hundreds of years? She would have hated to see it like this." Serana glanced at Max who looked as though he couldn't comprehend such a thing.

"No, I can't say I can." Max admitted.

Serana looked around the room, seeing the withered remains of plants, vines, and pottery. The only thing that was remotely recognizable was the massive moondial that was set in the stone floor. It was a little tarnished and some of the hour markers were missing. As Max looked at the hour makers more closely, he could see each of them reflected the waning and waxing of the moon that corresponded with the time.

Serana followed his gaze and recognized that pieces were missing.

"Wait…" She moved closer to the moondial.

"Something's wrong with the moondial. Some of the crests are missing and the dial is askew. I didn't even know the crests could be removed." Serana stared at it a moment, grasping at memories and hope.

"Maybe my mother's trying to tell us something?" Serana mused.

Max shrugged.

"Let's start by finding the pieces. That might help." Max suggested.

Serana looked at him and nodded, her eye contact lingering for a moment.

Max noticed but said nothing, unsure of what was meant by that look. He had seen it before. Could she…No…

Max focused on looking for the crests.

Once all of them were placed, Serana began twisting them in place. Finally something stirred. The moondial began to move on its axis and stairs were revealed.

"A passageway… I should have expected nothing less." Serana said.

Max looked at her briefly and made his way down the stairs.

They ventured through the ancient remains of a dining hall filled with gargoyles and skeletons. The ancient architecture was something to look at. It reminded Max of the Sovngarde Mead Hall. Max noticed skeletons sitting at the table. The unmistakable sound of bones creaking to life could be heard. Quickly thinking, Max unleashed a powerful Unrelenting Force shout, sending the skeletons blustering about the room. If that was not enough, more gargoyles joined the party. Serana's ranged magic specialty complimenting Max's up close and personal style as they fought their way to... Well, Max had no idea where they were headed. They both realized they were beginning to understand each other's styles and how to use them together effectively. They discovered that Serana's Ice Spike was especially effective against the gargoyles and skeletons, often times freezing them solid, allowing Max to shatter them easily.

After some walking and a few more pesky skeletons they found another smaller dining hall, it too produced more gargoyles. After entering through a rusted iron gate, Max found a ruined cathedral. At the heart of it was a ruined statue of Mara.

"This used to be a temple of Mara?" Max asked, rather surprised.

Serana looked around the room and nodded but said nothing on the topic. "There should be a switch somewhere, judging by earlier." She said simply.

Max walked around the room, investigating his surrounding for something out of the ordinary.

He couldn't see much of what lay in the rubble so he went to grab a candle from the fastening on the wall. Much to his surprise the fixture was loose and rotated downward. The wall began to slip away and a secret passage revealed itself.

The room that lay inside was something of a alchemist's lab. At the center of the room was a metal design similar to the moondial from the courtyard.

"Look at this place. This has to be it! I know she was deep into necromancy but I had no idea she had a setup like this." Serana marveled at the room filled with alchemy supplies both common and extremely rare. There were also bookshelves along one of the corner walls that were completely filled. Max stared at the mammoth skull that was mounted on the central wall, he couldn't even guess as to how old it was. Max noticed a staircase that lead to an upper level. For some reason there was a gap in the railing that face the center of the room.

Max inspected the large group of circular rings at the center of the room carefully. If they were anything like the moondial, they concealed something. Candles surrounded the design in a methodical manner. Some were even still lit after who know how long.

Serana was looking at all of the pieces of the alchemy lab as well as the stocked shelves Serana's mouth was agape.

"Look at all this," she said, completely blown away. She looked down at the circular design at the center of the room, "And what's this thing? I'm not sure about this circle, but its…something." Serana said looking at Max, who appeared to have made the same conclusion.

"Let's look around. There has to be something here that tells us where she's gone." Serana said, inspecting the room carefully. She stopped at the bookcase and lingered there a moment.

"My mother was meticulous about her research. If we can find her notes, there might be some hints in there."

Max and Serana seemed to be on the same page in thinking that her notes were somewhere in the bookcase (**A/N: Sorry for the terrible pun, but I couldn't resist :)**

After awhile, Serana plucked an old book with a creased spine from its place and began to flip through the pages. Much to her delight, there was handwriting within its pages…Valerica's handwriting.

Max noticed Serana had found the journal, but she didn't appear happy with what she read. She seemed more disturbed, or perhaps overwhelmed for her brow creased and her usually full lips thinned some as she continued to read. Max bit back his temptation to ask her what the matter was, instead he decided to simply watch her, eyes darting about the pages, face strained in attempt to understand whatever she was reading.

Finally, Serana looked at him. Her face was a little troubled, but mostly Max could see she was looking to him for something.

"What is it?" Max asked calmly.

"My mother has gone to the Soul Cairn." Serana said ominously.

Max gave her a mildly puzzled look, "What is the Soul Cairn exactly?"

Serana appeared to anticipate this for she reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out an empty soul gem and held it out to him.

"This is soul gem. Recognize it?"

Max nodded.

"Ever wonder where the souls inside these go after they're used?" Serana inquired.

Max appeared to make the connection, "Honestly, though… I never touch those things."

Serana smiled weakly, "I don't blame you."

"So are we still trying to find your mother?" Max asked.

Serana nodded, "We need to gather some ingredients. It appears my mother has finally created a portal to the Soul Cairn. I should have foreseen this, she was also so obsessed with it." She paused for a moment and grimaced.

"From what I understand, the Soul Cairn is a terrible place... My mother went there to escape Harkon and to protect me…I can't ask you to follow me there."

Max placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Serana…This is not your fault. It's Harkon's. Using his own family to fulfill a prophecy of power and greed. We cannot allow him to succeed. It would mean everything your mother and Francois sacrificed would be in vain, and Skyrim would fall. I'm not about to let that happen. So if you think I'm going to leave now, Serana, you're mistaken. I intend to see this through. No matter what." Max said firmly.

Suddenly Serana didn't feel so hopeless. She had her protector, at least she wasn't alone.

* * *

**The journal entry by Max is a reference to US President Teddy Roosevelt's journal entry the day his mother and wife died within hours of one another. I felt it was a brief but touching admission by a powerful and respected man. Also, Kodlak's journal in this chapter is the same as it was in game. I didn't think changing Kodlak's words would do much. It was very engaging already. As far as venturing Castle Volkihar's abandoned region I found most of it boring and redundant as far as battle. Every turn felt like, "Oh****…****Another freaking gargoyle****…****fun****…****" so I decided to skimp out on seemingly endless slew of battle sequences. But fear not, more ass kicking is in the making. I'm doing my updates in a cycle. In other words, my Fallout fanfic, Missing, is next in line for update. Then my Fallout New Vegas fic, The Savage, will be next. I do not anticipate these two to take very long so updates should be soon! I love to hear from you, like always! **


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